Nesting Robins
by frozen water droplet
Summary: A series of drabbles featuring Batman's five Robins and their ever-changing dynamics. Occasional slash!  T FOR NOW.  Accepting requests!
1. Replacement

**Title: **Replacement**  
>Words: <strong>2,325**  
>Category: <strong>Hurt/Comfort, Family**  
>Rating: <strong>T for Jay's mouth.**  
>Pairing: <strong>None.**  
>Summary: <strong>Dick chose Damian as his Robin, and Tim feels hurt. Tim has a run-in with Jason and finally can empathize with why Jason calls him "Replacement."

**A/N: **My take on Timmy's feelings about Damian and Dick as the Dynamic Duo. And I added some cute moments between Jay and Tim. This is before Tim became Red Robin.

OoOoOoO

Timothy Drake-Wayne was miserable. This feeling wasn't uncommon for him, but usually he could keep it at bay. Now, the emotion hit him full force, overwhelming him. Never had he felt so _unwanted _and _alone. _Someone else had become Robin. Batman's partner was no longer Tim Drake. Perhaps it was because Batman was no longer Bruce Wayne, or perhaps it was because the new Robin was Bruce Wayne's biological son. No matter what it was, Tim wasn't _Robin _anymore. His father had _died _because he was Robin. And now…. he _wasn't. _ Dick chose somebody else.

A loud crash brought the former Robin out of his dark thoughts. Tim had been sitting on the edge of a rooftop, overlooking an alley. He looked down to the area shrouded in shadows, where three guys were surrounding one unfortunate girl. The girl screamed and sobbed as the men slowly advanced on her, wielding knives. Tim knew he should have done something, but he was in his civvies. The only reason he'd been sitting on a rooftop was because he climbed up the fire escape. Sure, he had his utility belt hidden away under his baggy sweatshirt, but he wasn't _Robin _anymore. He was just Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne's third son. He felt miserable and useless and he was beginning to doubt his future as a hero. Tim was about to get up and walk away, not wanting to witness whatever those scumbags had in store for the woman.

But then, three gunshots rang out. The men collapse onto the filthy ground, crying out in agony. Two were hit in the shoulder and one had taken a bullet to his knee. And standing with the smoking gun still pointed at the attackers, was none other than the Red Hood. Metallic red helmet glinting in the low light, Tim could almost _see_ the sneer spread across the second Robin's hidden face.

"Hey, scumbags," Jason Todd drawled. "Corner another lady like that and next time my bullet will affect your _ability to reproduce._"

The bleeding and frightened thugs dragged themselves into the abandoned building on their left. The girl was still crying with her head in her hands against the brick wall of the alley, and Jason hesitantly put away his gun.

"Um, lady?" he tried. "You alright?"

The woman in question looked up at the antihero, her eyes shining with fear. She gulped audibly before running the opposite direction. Jason gave a heavy sigh. He seemed to linger for a moment in the alleyway before pulling out his grapple. He shot it and rappelled up onto the roof right across from Tim. The roofs were only about twenty-five feet apart and Tim now had no hope of going unnoticed by his "brother."

The Red Hood pulled himself onto the roof. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an ebony-haired boy. His feet dangled over the edge of the neighboring rooftop. The teen's body was slumped against the wall on his left. His brilliantly blue eyes were dull, and they looked almost… lifeless. The boy just exuded misery. _No, it can't be… _Jason thought. _But it _is.

The ex-Boy Wonder changed direction and shot his grapple at the fire escape below the teen. He swung over and scampered up several levels of the fire escape before he was standing on the ledge, towering over the boy.

Tim purposefully ignored Jason. He didn't feel like putting up with the second Robin's crap, not with him feeling so low. The guy could be a real jerk sometimes. But, despite that, Tim still had a tiny bit of admiration for him.

"Replacement?" Jason asked.

Suddenly, Tim sat up ramrod straight and his brilliant blue eyes widened with realization. Dick chose Damian to take over for Tim as Robin, and Tim took over for Jason when he died. Dick chose Damian to _replace _Tim as Robin, and Tim _replaced _Jason when he died. Dick hadn't given someone new the mantle of Robin, he'd _replaced _Tim. And… Jason. The realization hit him like a blow to the chest. Jason must've felt the same way as he did when he found out that Tim had took his place. He had felt as unwanted and unworthy as Tim did now. For once, Tim felt a little bit guilty for stealing the name of Robin from Jason. The third Robin never wanted to hurt anybody, but he was to naïve to realize how terrible it felt to be _replaced. _It tore down your self-esteem and undermined all that you thought were basic facts of life. Like the fact that _Tim _was _Robin. _

Jason waved his hand in front of Tim's face, trying to break the kid out of his trance. "Everything okay, Drake?"

Perhaps it was a bit odd that the antihero was actually _talking _to him instead of shooting at him. But, Jason didn't see the teen that had replaced him at that moment. At that moment, Jason saw a miserable teenager.

For the first time, Tim's eyes flicked up to meet the masked eyes behind Red Hood's helmet. The teen gulped then whispered shakily, "Dick, he-…. He _replaced _me." Tim was a little afraid Jason would take advantage of the vulnerability in his voice. But he was fairly confident Jason would empathize.

Inside the red metal that concealed his face, Jason's features softened. The kid now knew what Jason felt when he'd found out about the third Robin. The emotion was impossible to describe – you had to experience it to understand.

Jason decided that for tonight, he'd be a big brother to Tim. Jason knew the transition from Batman's sidekick to an independent hero was hard. Dick's transition from Batman's Robin to the Teen Titan's Robin to Nightwing was pretty much smooth sailing. His transition to the Red Hood, however, had been like sailing during a hurricane. He'd died, come back, trained with assassins, learned to _kill_, and had to announce his resurrection to the BatClan to become his own hero. Jason had a feeling that Tim's transition would be pretty bumpy, too. So the son that had been estranged from the family finally reached out to the little brother he had never really connected with.

"Wow, kid," Jason replied after a moment of silence. "Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?"

Tim had regressed back into his shell of misery and leaned his body against the wall on his left again. "It really does," the teen whispered.

Jason squatted down next to Tim and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "You probably shouldn't be up here in civvies. People would start to wonder why one of the goody two-shoes Wayne kids was climbing up fire escapes."

Tim nodded ever so slightly.

Jason continued, "So where are you staying?"

"The Manor," Tim replied quietly.

Red Hood inhaled sharply. "Damn. That's gotta _suck_."

"It does," came the quiet response.

"Listen," the second Robin started, unsure. "I know how shitty it feels to be replaced. And I know that you _especially_ don't like hanging around the one that replaced you. So… I guess, if you want, you can crash at my place tonight. I have to move soon anyway, so it won't matter if you tell Goldie."

Tim didn't speak, or move.

"What were you going to do?" Jason asked. "Sleep out here?"

The stiffening of Drake's shoulders told him that _yes, that had been the plan._

"C'mon, Babybird," that nickname was new. Tim kinda liked it. "My couch is a lot more comfortable than that wall. Warmer, too. You know Alf will smother you if you get a cold."

Tim reluctantly stood up, knowing what Jason said was true. Besides, it would be nice to be able to talk to someone who would understand why he felt so miserable presently.

Jason straightened out his legs. "You got your grapple?" he asked, hoping they wouldn't have to walk on the streets.

"Yeah," Tim said, fishing it out of his hidden utility belt.

The pair swung from building to building, strides in perfect sync. For once, Tim felt like Jason was as much of a brother to him as Dick. It felt a little strange to actually have _two _big brothers, but Tim was certain he could get used to the feeling.

Jason landed on a ledge, Tim doing the same half a second later. The Red Hood opened an unlocked window and slid in feet-first without difficulty. Following his lead, the third Robin went through the window.

They'd entered some sort of living area, with two couches, a coffee table, and an old TV. A small kitchenette dominated one corner. Tim assumed that this was Jason's apartment. Red Hood took off his helmet and the mask underneath, placing them on a counter. He scrubbed his midnight hair and Tim couldn't help but stare at the shocking white streak that hung into the older man's eyes. Jason tried to think of something to say.

"Yeah, I'm not so great at giving advice," Jason admitted, sprawling out on the couch. He patted the cushion next to him, signaling that Tim should sit next to him. Tim sat down rigidly, out of his element, but not entirely uncomfortable. "To be honest," Jason continued, "when I'm feeling down, I go out and shoot some thugs in the face."

Tim smiled slightly, because what he just conceded was such a _Jason _thing to say.

Jason paused, noting the younger boy's smile. Jason felt happy that he could make the straight-laced ex-Robin crack a grin. And that feeling was so foreign to him because he hadn't ever really considered the Babybird a _brother._ Jason smiled back at Tim.

"But I know how it feels to be replaced, Babybird. You of all people should know that. I've thought about it a lot, and I realized something. The reason it hurt so much seeing someone else wearing the Robin costume is because we thought we'd be Robin forever. We go in, knowing there were others before us, but somewhere in the middle that all fades away. We start to believe that Batman will always need us as his partner, and that it'll always be _us _behind that domino mask. But it won't be. Robin is just a stepping stone. Robin is destined to grow up and become his own hero. We just have to find out who we are going to grow up to be."

Tim's wide, frost-colored eyes met Jason's blue-green eyes in shock. How could someone like _Jason _come up with something like that? There was certainly more to the antihero than meets the eye.

Jason chuckled slightly at Tim's shock. But the teen recovered and realized that everything the second Robin had said was true.

Jason added, "My transition to my own hero was rough. But yours doesn't have to. Just figure out who you really want to be."

Tim smiled brightly at the older man. "Thank you, Jason. I really needed that. I just never expected it to come from you."

Jason laughed. "It's fun to surprise people sometimes."

Tim tried to muffle his yawn, but it's hard to hide things from people trained by the Batman.

"Alright, kid," Jason said. "Let's hit the hay."

Jason got up from the couch and into a short hallway nearby. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a spare blanket and pillow. He walked back into the living room and tossed them to Tim. _Look at me, being domestic with Drake, _Jason mused.

Tim caught the blanket and pillow with ease. Jason turned on his heel to go to his bedroom, Tim assumed. "Night, Babybird," the Red Hood called.

"Goodnight, big brother," Tim said quietly.

Jason froze mid-step. Tim had actually called him _brother. _Jason's face broke into an uncontrollable smile as he went into his room to get some sleep himself.

Tim shed his jacket and shoes. He curled up on the couch, underneath the blanket. He was happy he had this time with Jason. He knew that they'd go back to being enemies in the morning, but for tonight, they were just brothers. Tim wouldn't tell Dick of the night he spent with Jason, and Tim was positive Jason wouldn't tell a soul. It would be their secret.

Tim stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. His mind wandered back to what Jason said about becoming his own hero. If Tim was going to assume a new hero identity, he'd need a name. Something that would help him remember his roots. Maybe something that would subtly thank Jason for the advice…

Sleep consumed Tim, and that night he dreamed of red robins.

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Tim woke up to sunlight streaming through a window nearby, hitting his face. That had to have been the best sleep Tim had gotten in months, despite the fact it was on a couch. Tim felt ready to take on the world – his faith in being a hero had been restored. He was ready to become his own person, and he had Jason to thank.

Tim knew without a shadow of a doubt that Jason had left the apartment already, and he was alone. The teen pulled his clothes back on and folded up his blanket. He wandered over to the counter, where a slip of paper caught his eye.

He read the messy handwriting:

_See you around, little brother._

_-J.T._

Tim smiled at the insignificant slip of paper. Tim picked up a red pen laying on the countertop. He pocketed the note, wanting to keep it. The teen grabbed another scrap of paper. Tim tapped the pen to his chin, trying to decide what to write. It suddenly came to him, and he grinned as he scrawled it on the paper.

Tim put the pen back where it belonged. He left through the window, heading straight for Wayne Manor. He needed to talk to Dick about his new superhero identity.

_Thanks for everything, Jay._

_-Red Robin_

OoOoOoO

**A/N: Get it? Red Hood + Robin = Red Robin? No? Okay. Wow, this is so much longer than I usually write. Ideas just kept flowing. Most will be shorter than this. If anybody's interested in giving me a request for a drabble, go ahead. Anything, as long as it has to do with the Robins. Just shoot me a review. Please tell me what you think!**


	2. Hurting

**Title: **Hurting**  
>Words: <strong>728**  
>Category: <strong>Angst, Hurt/Comfort**  
>Rating: <strong>K+**  
>Pairing: <strong>None**  
>Summary: <strong>Starfire and Arsenal were brutally murdered right in front of Jason. A hurting Red Hood goes on a killing spree, only to be stopped by Nightwing. Dick tries to convince Jason to stop killing and come home.

**A/N: **Lots of angst in last chapter and this chapter. The next one will be lighter, I promise. Sorry this is kinda short and rushed, but I really wanted to get something up. I have a bunch of half-finished drabbles that I've been working on, and I'll try to wrap them up and post them. Oh, and for whatever reason, Kory and Roy can't be revived. Perhaps all that remained were ashes so they couldn't be resurrected via the Lazarus Pit.

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"Jason!" Nightwing shouted. He finally managed to catch up to the antihero, grabbing his wrist in an iron grip.

The Red Hood glared up at his brother. He should have shot Dick, but he didn't have the heart at the moment.

"Jason, stop it, please," Nightwing begged, not even trying to conceal his desperation. "You're going to kill yourself if you keep going on like this."

The Red Hood had been on a non-stop crusade against crime for the past 20 hours. He scoured Gotham for any person committing a crime, and promptly executed them. Some of the offenders he had murdered hadn't even done anything serious. The body count was at 38. But Jason couldn't stop. _Wouldn't _stop. Roy and Kory were gone, and his heart felt like they had been dipped in acid. Killing criminal scum was the only thing that would temporarily numb the pain.

Jason growled, "They're dead, Dick. I owe it to them to exterminate all these vermin."

Nightwing's face fell. "Jason," he whispered. "You already tortured and killed their murderers. You can't keep this up. You're going to crash, and somebody's going to take advantage of that and get rid of you. Please, for your own sake, _just stop._"

"I can't," the second Robin half-screamed. He swallowed a sob, thinking of his former teammates smiling faces. He admitted in a whisper, "They were my family, Nightwing."

Dick's grip on Jason's wrist tightened. "I know, Little Wing, I know," he sympathized. "Despite the fact that they went down the wrong path, they were still my best friends. I still loved them."

Tears were slowly sliding from underneath Nightwing's mask. Dick was sure that underneath his brother's helmet, Jason was crying, too. A hitch in Jason's normally steady breathing proved his theory.

"But, Jay, you still have a family. Sure, we have our issues, but all of us still love you. We want to help you. Please, please come back home. Bruce has offered you full immunity for the time being. We know how much you're hurting."

Jason's quiet sobs became a bit more apparent. "I c-can't – I'm not ready to s-see Bruce or go back to the Manor yet," Red Hood admitted.

Dick wanted to break down sobbing at the vulnerability in his little brother's tone. The prideful Red Hood should never be reduced to this. Dick wanted nothing more than to help, but he got that going to Wayne Manor would just hurt him more. He thought on his feet.

"Then come stay with me, Jay-bird. I won't push you into anything. But all you have to do to be fully redeemed in Bruce's eyes is stop killing," Dick reasoned.

Jason stiffened in the first Robin's grip.

Dick said hurriedly, "I'm almost positive that Arsenal and Starfire would want you to heal. You're broken, Jason, and you know it. Since they died, every person you've killed, you've killed a part of yourself. With them, it was okay, but now that they're not here… You've lost your purpose and your motivation. Without them, killing criminals is pointless."

A tiny part of Jason's brain told him to break Nightwing's grip and forget everything he'd said. But the larger part of his brain told him to collapse into his brother's arm and accept the offered help.

"Even if you keep killing, we're still going to be here for you," Dick admitted softly. "But if we're giving you a second chance, shouldn't you give the criminals a second chance? Everybody deserves the opportunity to reform."

Jason's sobbing intensified, and he silently cursed his pathetic expression of emotions. The Red Hood's knees shook before he fell to the ground, pulling his hand from Dick's grip so he could bury his head in his gloved hands.

"J-just make the pain go a-away," he begged Nightwing brokenly.

Dick's chest tightened as he kneeled in front of his aching little brother. He wrapped his arms around Jason's trembling form, squeezing tightly. Dick hoped he could convey how much he loved Jason with that simple hug. In the warm embrace, Jason's bloodlust fell away. He felt like maybe the Red Hood could walk the straight and narrow.

"It'll be okay, Little Wing," Dick promised.

For the first time since his teammates died, Jason believed that maybe, just maybe, it _would _be okay. That maybe, just maybe, Dick could heal Jason's hurts.

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Pretty please leave me a review telling me what you thought! Any ideas for who will be in the next chapter?


	3. Going Down Together

**Title: **Going Down Together**  
>Words: <strong>1,847**  
>Category: <strong>Tragedy, Family**  
>Rating: <strong>T for character death and angst.**  
>Pairing: <strong>none**  
>Summary: <strong>Jason and Damian had teamed up a year ago. It was them against the world, and with that kind of mentality, it was only natural that they die together.

**A/N: **Request from KittyBatMeowSqueek. Hope this is okay! Yeah, I know I said the next chapter would be lighter. Guess not. This is full of angst. Lots and lots of angst. With a bittersweet ending. Timeline: Jason is 22, Damian is 12 ½. Damian spent a year with Dick, 6 months with Bruce, and a year with Jason. Takes place after the Reboot, but Jason never got together with Roy and Kori.

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After all that they'd been through together, it wasn't surprising that they'd go down together. There were those that claimed the two could never work together, could never be _brothers_; but they'd proved them wrong, hadn't they? Despite their differences, they had the same interests at heart. They both strongly believed that criminals should be _put down _and that Batman couldn't uphold his promise of protection for Gotham while being restricted by his moral codes. It was only natural that they join forces to exterminate criminals.

Jason had been more than a little bit shocked when Damian first showed up on the doorstep of his apartment, demanding a place to stay. Jason had always had a soft spot for the youngest Robin, and could tell the kid just needed somewhere to crash. Damian had stayed for a few days, refusing to answer any of Jason's questions before the older of the two got exasperated and pinned the boy down, demanding an explanation. Jason needed to know why Damian was here and why Batman was turning Gotham upside down looking for his runaway Robin. Damian had confessed that he felt betrayed when Grayson left him and Bruce's lack of trust and disappointment in the boy's violent ways had more of an effect on him than he'd like to admit. And it had been hard for the boy to adjust from Dick's bubbly personality and his lighter Batman to the stony and silent Bruce. Jason sighed, knowing he couldn't turn away the boy that was like him in so many ways. _(Why weren't you there, Dick? I needed a big brother. I needed someone to take my side. I needed someone to protect me. I needed someone to look up to. I'm sorry, Bruce, I didn't mean to break his collar bone; I know the mission is a failure because now he won't tell us anything. I didn't know diving in early would make everything go wrong, I'm sorry, I should have waited for your signal.) _ Jason had no choice but to take the boy in. They fought crime together, and Jason saw how happy Damian was that he didn't have to hold back.

The first real test of their partnership was the fourth night Robin and Red Hood had worked together. While Jason had been taking out drug dealers and Batman swooped into the warehouse. After a small scuffle, the Dark Knight had him pinned and was ready to send him back to Arkham. Robin came out of the shadows and tackled Batman. The ensuing confrontation had been emotionally taxing on everybody present. Damian gave up his family and Jason remembered his days as the second Robin and Bruce lost his youngest son to his second son. Damian and Jason stayed together as the anti-hero protectors of Gotham. Over the year and a half that they'd been together, the two had gained implicit trust in each other and had formed an unbreakable bond.

The only thing Jason regretted was not teaming up with his little brother sooner.

"Are we going to die here, Todd?" Damian asked for the third time, panting as he roundhouse kicked another assassin.

The past two times his brother had asked that question, Jason had adamantly denied it. This time, though, there was no being optimistic.

"Afraid so, Little D. But, don't worry. Death… S'not so bad," Jason replied, shrugging as he stabbed one of the cloaked men in the stomach.

"Tt, why would I be wor-" Damian broke off in a gasp as he got a deep cut on his side, "-ried?"

Jason chuckled humorlessly. "Didn't think you were. Just thought _most _twelve-and-a-half year-olds would be spouting some crap about how they're too young to die."

Damian jabbed his fingers into a black-clothed man's neck and the assassin dropped to the floor, unconscious. "Well, I do regret not getting another chance to beat up Drake. Perhaps we'll have to leave that to Brown."

Jason grimaced as he was hit by a particularly hard punch to his ribs. _What I wouldn't do for more bullets… _he thought to himself. "Nah, last I heard the chick Robin got back together with Replacement. Won't be getting anything from her."

Damian huffed as he knocked two assassin heads together. "Well, that's what I get for putting a little bit of faith into Fatgirl. She turns around and sleeps with the enemy."

Damian and Jason stopped talking for a moment as they continued bringing down as many assassins as they could before they were brought down themselves. Their banter was how each of the boys tried to deal with the fact that there was no escape from this. They had no back up, and retreat was not a possibility. Jason had long since used up his large supply of bullets and Damian's utility belt was just about empty. This would be where the duo of Red Hood and Robin fell.

Jason couldn't help but compare his impending doom with his first death. The first time he died, he had been a helpless fifteen year-old. He had faithfully believed that Batman would come and save him. But Batman wasn't coming. Not this time. Somewhere in the vicinity was a comm jammer, so backup was not an option.

And this time… When Jason died, he would stay _dead. _There would be no revival through the Lazarus Pit. For the past year, Jason and Damian had made it their mission to make the lives of Ra's and Talia Al Ghul a living hell. And now, they were paying for it. With their lives.

…But it was worth it. Jason still remembered how _broken _Damian had looked after his visit with Talia. Damian had shakily explained what happened as the boy sobbed into Jason's shirt. Talia disowned him for abandoning his post at Batman's side. Talia had other children. Talia replaced Damian. And the boy's appeal to his grandfather to make him heir to the Al Ghul empire again was brutally rejected. In the eyes of Ra's and Talia, Damian had no relation to them.

All gratitude towards Talia for bringing Jason back dissolved as Damian cried. They were going to pay for hurting his little brother. And with a little convincing, Jason got Damian to help him get revenge. The League was still trying to recover and rebuild from the destruction the Replacement had inflicted on them years ago. So Jason and Damian crippled them even further, hoping to wipe their existence from the planet permanently. They'd done pretty well at crippling Ra's and Talia's forces, more than tripling the amount of time it would take them to rebuild. And now, in a last ditch effort to assassinate the two former Robins, the Al Ghuls had combined their remaining forces. They'd sent over four hundred assassins after them, all at once. They surrounded the duo, waiting to get their chance to take down either Damian or Jason.

"Do… Do you think they'll miss us when we're gone?" Damian asked quietly, unsure.

Jason spared his younger partner a glance. The boy looked troubled as he knocked two ninja skulls together. The Red Hood knew Damian was referring to Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Tim.

"Yeah, they will. Bruce will brood like he did when I died, only worse. He'll only stop once he gets a new Robin. Alfred will visit our graves every day, leaving flowers. Dick will be out of commission for a few days, crying in his dark apartment, but then he'll toughen up and go out and avenge us. And Tim, he'll just work himself to the bone and wonder why everyone around him dies," Jason finished.

"But, why would they even care? We abandoned them," Damian pondered, wincing when one assassin got a lucky hit in.

Jason stabbed someone in the arm, then replied, "Cause those sentimental morons still consider us family. I still get birthday presents from Dick and Christmas cards from Bruce and Alfred. It's a small miracle, considering I've made attempts on most of their lives."

Damian hummed in agreement. "That one time, when you and Scarlet kidnapped Grayson and I, Grayson was defending you after I called you an idiot."

Jason sighed. "That sap." He paused for a moment, getting a deep cut on his thigh. "Hey, Little D?"

"Yes?"

"We have to bring down as many ninjas as possible with us."

Damian smirked slightly. "Tt, that is a given, Todd."

The brothers fell back into silence. Jason was dizzy from blood loss, and Damian was leaning heavily on his left side. Both had silently accepted their imminent death. It was becoming harder and harder to fight through their injuries. Both of their uniforms were soaked with blood, only half of which was actually theirs. Jason had long since discarded his red helmet, its hindrance had far outweighed the protection it had provided. So far, the pair had eliminated nearly half of the assassins, which was quite an impressive feat. Jason spared Damian a glance, sympathy welling up for the boy. Damian, despite all of his claims otherwise, was just a child. If Jason had made Damian go back to Bruce, then maybe the kid would have more than mere minutes to live. But then, perhaps, Jason would've died all those times that Damian had to come save his sorry hide. Jason had to remind himself that death was a very real possibility in this line of work. Damian could've died, even with Bruce as his partner.

"Thanks for saving my ass all those times, D," Jason said suddenly.

"Thanks for taking me in, Hood," Damian replied evenly.

Jason smiled. This kid was tough. He knew that.

Jason didn't see one of the ninjas until it was too late, once his legs had already been swept out from under him. He fell backwards, crashing into Damian, and they both hit the concrete. The two rolled of each other, both of them ending up on their backs. Jason knew the ninjas wouldn't give them a chance to get up.

"We're going to die here, kid. But that? That doesn't matter. All that matters is that we're going down _together. _And I'm glad," Jason whispered to his little brother. What he didn't say is that it wasn't as bad – dying for a second time. Because this time, he wasn't dying alone. He wasn't dying waiting for Batman to come save him. He was dying with his little brother at his side. He was dying, and he didn't really mind.

"Jason…" Damian started, vainly trying to hold off the assassins for a moment longer. Their masked eyes met. "I am…" he paused, panting and struggling for words, "honored to call you brother. I-I love you."

Jason smiled as well as he could through the pain. "Love you, too, Damian," he slurred.

The pain was overwhelming, and unconsciousness beckoned the boys. Jason's eyes slid shut against his will. With his last ounce of strength, Jason reached out and intertwined his fingers with Damian's.

He squeezed Damian's hand. Damian squeezed back.

And then, all they knew was darkness.

OoOoOoO

**A/N: ***crying* Poor babies! I may write the prequel to this, when Damian first shows up on Jason's doorstep. Anyone interested in reading that? On another note, I apologize for not updating in 2 ½ weeks. I've been busy with school and a play that I was in. But this week is my spring break, so I'm hoping to post three more chapters before I go back to school. I'll get to some of your request ASAP! Please review and tell me what you thought!


	4. Three Robins Walk Into a Bar

**Title: **Three Robin Walk Into a Bar…**  
>Words: <strong>1,233**  
>Category: <strong>Romance, Humor**  
>Rating: <strong>High T for drunkenness, boy kisses, cussing, and mentions of sex**  
>Pairing: <strong>Dick/Jason**  
>Summary: <strong>Three Robins walk into a bar. The first and second get shitfaced and start making out, and the third has to drag them home.

**A/N: **Tim, Jason, and Dick for Twilightfairy. Slightly cracky if you read it that way. Takes place during Reboot (but no Kori or Roy), references to Nightwing # 7. Sorry it sucks. A terrible attempt at humor. This is really rushed, since I wanted to get something up today. I have like ten minutes before midnight. :) Excuse my utter lack of knowledge on anything pertaining to alcoholic drinks.

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"Jason! Jay!" Dick exclaimed, pulling Tim over from the other side of the bar so the pair could sit next to the rogue Robin. Tim scowled at Dick.

Jason, upon hearing the chipper voice of his "brother" promptly downed what was left of his beer. "Go fuck yourself, Goldie," he spat, standing up to leave.

Dick caught Jason's wrist. "Oh, come on, Little Wing. Timmy and I just want to talk," he pouted.

"I had _no _part in this," Tim added, defending himself.

"The _only _way I'm talking to you is if I'm piss drunk. So back the fuck off," Jason growled.

Jason tried to break Dick's hold, but the first Robin's grip was tight. "I'll pay for your drinks," Dick pleaded.

Jason stopped, considering Dick's offer.

Jason grunted and sat back down. "Fine," he conceded, "but only because I can get shitfaced on someone else's tab."

Dick waved the bartender over, and nodded at Jason, signaling him to get whatever.

"Smirnoff," Jason said simply.

"Bourbon whiskey for me," Dick added. Jason gave him a weird look.

"Pepsi," Tim muttered, feeling awkward that he was the only person in the bar under twenty-one. Well, technically, Jason was still twenty, but he'd been drinking since he was fourteen, so it didn't really count.

The bartender grunted and walked off to make their drinks.

"What's with the heavy alcohol, Dickie? Usually you get that fruity, girly crap," Jason wondered, cocking his eyebrow.

Tim snorted, and Dick's effervescent aura dimmed slightly. "His girlfriend stabbed in the back. She was working with some guy who was trying to get revenge on him," Tim explained.

"Woah, woah, wait. Babs did that?" Jason asked, confused.

Dick shook his head sadly and Tim replied, "No, no. This girl he was in the circus with, Raya."

Jason hummed and stared thoughtfully at the wall. The bartender came back with the trio's drinks, setting them on the counter. Tim watched in morbid fascination as Dick and Jason simultaneously took large gulps of their alcohol.

After both men had consumed enough alcohol to loosen the tense atmosphere, Jason asked the question that had been bugging him for a while.

"So, Goldie, other than to drink away your girl problems, why are you here?"

Dick smiled lazily. "Well, Timmy here was working himself ragged with the Titans, so I decided he deserved a break."

Jason rolled his eyes. "No, Dick, more like you wanted to slack off, as per usual, so you decided to drag Replacement down with you."

"Yeah, seriously, Dick," Tim piped up. "A bar? I'm too young to drink."

"But you need to loosen up, Timmy!" Dick exclaimed.

"Slacker," Jason singsonged.

Tim grinned at his brothers' childish behavior. It was fascinating to him: as the alcohol continued flowing, his brothers became more and more like they were when they wore the Robin costume. They teased and joked and acted like _brothers. _If that wasn't bizarre, he didn't know what was. Occasionally, Tim would enter the conversation, but for the most part, he simply observed. The third Robin vaguely wondered if it was ever like this between the pair before Jason died.

Gradually, as Dick and Jason's speech slurred and coordination decreased, their teasing turned… heavier. Tim realized with a shock that the two were _flirting. _Tim smirked. Oh, that was just too good. Dick and Jason had a crush on each other. How horrifyingly adorable. Like that time Tim found Damian trying to teach stray cats to attack him. He was going to give Dick so much hell for this. But, despite the potential for mischief, Tim didn't want his brothers to do anything they'd regret.

Which is why when he looked up from his Pepsi and saw Dick and Jason swapping saliva, he jumped up.

"You guys have clearly had enough to drink," he muttered, subtly swiping Dick's wallet.

He paid their tab, then pried the couple apart. "C'mon you two. You guys have had one too many."

"Mm, in a minute, Timbo," Dick slurred as Jason sucked a hickey into his neck. The two then continued making out.

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes. He got a hold of both Dick and Jason's wrists and dragged them from the bar.

Once outside the door, Tim let both of the former Robins go. He rounded on them. "Okay, now follow me to my apartment without stopping to grope each other and I won't call Bruce."

They both sobered up slightly and Jason growled at him.

"Good. Now let's go."

It was only a couple of blocks to Tim's apartment, thank god. Tim purposefully placed himself between Dick and Jason so they wouldn't be tempted to stop to make out. They both stumbled slightly during the walk, and shot each other longing glances, and Tim pretended not to notice.

Dick and Jason managed to hold out on kissing again until they were on the elevator up to Tim's apartment. To be honest, Tim was surprised they had even lasted that long. The teen could practically feel the lust rolling off the older men. It kind of made him want to shudder in disgust.

Tim unlocked the door to his apartment, going straight to the kitchen, turning on lights along the way. Somehow, Dick and Jason managed to walk and ravage each other's mouth at the same time. They ended up on the couch.

In the kitchen, Tim grabbed two clean glasses and filled them with tap water. He searched through his cabinet for a moment before pulling out a small white box. He knew they'd be pissed in the morning, but he didn't want his older brothers to do something they'd regret. He dropped a pill in each glass, then went out to the living area. He set the glasses down on the coffee table.

Dick was straddling Jason, his hands tangling into the younger man's hair. Jason was kissing him forcefully, running his hands up and down Dick's back. Jason's hands went farther and farther south, fingers reaching out to grab Dick's….

"Okay!" Tim exclaimed, pulling Dick off Jason's lap. He handed each man a glass. "Drink this, it'll make you feel better."

Dick and Jason looked at each other for a moment. But then Jason shrugged and downed the glass, Dick soon repeating the action.

Tim sighed, looking at the couple. "I guess you guys can sleep in my bed. But NO sex."

"Why not?" Dick whined.

"Because I'm the one who will have to wash the sheets," Tim said as he led Dick and Jason to his bedroom. Both of them flopped onto the bed and were out in minutes.

_Wow, those sedatives were pretty fast-acting, _Tim mused. He took a moment to observe his sleeping brothers. Unconsciously, they had curled up to each other. It was rather cute. They were good for each other, Tim decided. Jason needed someone to calm him down when he was angry, and Dick needed someone who would put up with his quirks. Now, if they could just get over their pride and admit they liked each other.

Tim wandered back into his living room and curled up on the couch. Tomorrow morning would be hell. Jason would yell and break something, and Dick would complain incessantly about his headache. But Tim didn't think he would mind much. Tim would be too busy planning how he could get Dick and Jason together.

OoOoOoO

**A/N: **Yeah, this isn't very good. Sorry. But I thought the second chapter sucked, and I got lots of feedback on that. Maybe I just underestimate myself. Anyway, please tell me what you think! I treasure each and every review. Next chapter is special! Hopefully it'll be up tomorrow?

(Reply to k. alex c-well: No, I don't go there. Sorry. My play was just a small production put on by my drama class. But thanks for reviewing!)


	5. All The Robins

**A/N: **So this is a special chapter. Instead of a longer drabble, there are sixteen mini-drabbles that are less than four hundred words. (Two are 399 words, haha.) One for each of the five Robins, ten for each pair of Robins (not necessarily romantic), and one bonus drabble at the end. Some of the single drabbles mention a second Robin, but it centers on just one of them. Likewise, some of the pairing drabbles have a third snuck in there, but they're only minor. If this is confusing, just go and read them.

I snuck some of the requests in there for people. Sorry that they're all short.

And sorry, I don't think I did Stephanie justice. This is my first time writing her and I actually haven't read any of her comics. Sorry. Normally I don't like writing characters I haven't read up on, but if I'm writing about all the Robins, I HAVE to write about Stephanie. She's such a strong female role model and I really dislike it when people say she 'wasn't a real Robin.'

And in most of these, the timeline's really screwed up. Just ignore it. But almost all take place before the Reboot.

OoOoOoO

**Dick  
>Title: <strong>Trapeze**  
>Category: <strong>General**  
>Words: <strong>391

Dick careened through the air, flipping and moving his body in a way only he could. At the last second, his hands gripped the trapeze. It swung with his momentum, and just before the trapeze reached its peak, Dick let go and continued somersaulting through the air.

Dick smiled an exhilarated smile as he flew from trapeze to trapeze. He wasn't doing any particular routine, just adlibbing and adding little flourishes to his acrobatics. He used a net, mostly because the only time he didn't use one was when he was performing. And he hadn't performed since he was eight.

Dick still remembered the first time he got back up on the trapeze after his parent's deaths. He'd been an energetic eight-year-old, and climbing trees was nowhere near swinging on a trapeze. About a month after becoming Bruce Wayne's ward, and two weeks after learning he was the Batman, it was nearing his ninth birthday. Bruce had asked him what he wanted, and Dick wasn't sure. But then, getting struck by an idea, Dick had hesitantly asked for a trapeze. Bruce had simply smiled and said "Of course," in his deep, rumbling voice. A week and a half later, Dick was looking up at his very own trapeze. He and Bruce had thoroughly checked to make sure everything was safe and had put up a net just in case. Bruce and Alfred had looked on as their nervous ward got back on the trapeze for the first time in weeks. At first, Dick had been frightened, memories of his parents falling to their deaths flashing through his head, but slowly he gained more and more confidence. The first time he fell, he was terrified as he plummeted towards the ground, sure that he was going to die. But then the net caught him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Bruce and Alfred smiled as their ward gradually got more and more comfortable being back on the trapeze. To Dick, it felt like he never left.

The now twenty-five-year old Dick smiled at the memory. Throughout the years, he made sure to never fall out of practice on the trapeze. It was his way of preserving his parents.

Sure, he was proud to call Wayne Manor home, but… Dick never felt more at home than when he was on the trapeze.

OoOoOoO

**Dick and Jason  
>Title: <strong>Alive**  
>Category: <strong>Romance, Hurt/Comfort**  
>Words: <strong>318  
><strong>AN: **Dick/Jason for magic1034

Sometimes, when Dick randomly appeared in Jason's apartment, Jason would kiss him gently and tease him lightly. They'd laugh and joke and talk for hours about the oddest things. Jason would hug him and tell Dick that he loved him.

And Dick would know that Jason was feeling sentimental and nostalgic. Dick would know that Jason was missing the old days, how things used to be.

And Dick would always come back; just to make sure Jason still loved him.

Sometimes, when Dick randomly appeared in Jason's apartment, Jason would cuss him out and insult him without remorse. They'd yell and argue and hit each other angrily. Jason would kick him out and tell Dick to never come back.

And Dick would know that Jason was feeling exposed and frightened. Dick would know that Jason was afraid that Dick would abandon him, and was trying to push him away.

And Dick would always come back; just to make sure Jason knew he wasn't ever going to leave him.

Sometimes, when Dick randomly appeared in Jason's apartment, Jason wouldn't even react. He'd just sit on his couch, sipping his beer, and staring off into space like he'd probably been doing for the past couple of hours. Heart swelling for his little brother, Dick would curl up next to Jason and just hold him. Dick would cry silently into Jason's chest, knowing the thoughts going through the younger man's head. Dick would whisper "I love you" over and over and kiss Jason's unresponsive lips until Jason finally broke. Jason would kiss him back, sobbing. They'd both cry themselves to sleep on Jason's threadbare couch.

And Dick would know that Jason was feeling depressed and worthless. Dick would know that Jason was wishing he'd never come back to life and praying for the cold embrace of death.

And Dick would always come back; just to make sure Jason was still alive.

OoOoOoO

**Dick and Tim  
>Title: <strong>Proud**  
>Category: <strong>Family, Hurt/Comfort**  
>Words: <strong>354

Dick sat cross-legged in the Wayne Family Cemetery, wet grass soaking his worn jeans. Tears silently trailed down his face as he stared at the two headstones in front of him.

Tim quietly walked up next to him, sitting beside him.

"You really miss them, don't you?" Tim asked in a whisper.

Dick closed his eyes, tilting his head up to the gray, overcast sky. "So, so much," he admitted, voice rough from crying. "They were my whole world."

Tim nodded, trying desperately to find a way to cheer his normally bubbly big brother up.

"They'd be proud of you," Tim tried. Dick cracked open one stunningly blue eye. "If they were still here, I mean," he fumbled.

"I don't know," Dick said, shutting his eyes again. "My mom would probably have worried herself sick."

"But they'd be happy that you were using what they taught you to fight crime," Tim argued.

"Hmm. Maybe," Dick conceded, wiping his face of any lingering wetness.

"I think, if they could see you now, they'd be happy that their son turned out to be a hero."

Dick smiled the tiniest bit. "I guess."

"Whatever they would think about who you grew up to be, I'm proud of you, Dick. I know that you're _my _hero," Tim revealed, his face heating up.

Dick opened his brilliant blue eyes and smiled hugely. "Thanks, little bro," he said.

Tim wrapped his arms around Dick's stomach and buried his blushing face in the older man's shoulder. Dick, surprised for a moment, didn't respond. Usually he was the one to initiate hugs, not Tim. But then Dick hugged Tim back, and everything was okay. The hug was warm and tender and brotherly and everything it was _supposed _to be. Eventually, the two broke apart and Dick stood up.

"C'mon little brother, let's go see if Alfred has any cookies for us," Dick said, holding out his hand to help Tim up.

Tim took his hand gratefully, pulling himself up. The two then walked side-by-side back to the manor, smiling all the way.

_I'm proud of you, too, little brother, _Dick decided silently.

OoOoOoO

**Dick and Stephanie  
>Title: <strong>Partners**  
>Category: <strong>Family, Friendship**  
>Words: <strong>384

Batman and Batgirl sat on a rooftop, looking down at the Gotham nightlife. Robin was sick, so Batman had asked Batgirl to patrol with him tonight. But, so far, the night had been slow, so the pair had just been chatting idly to pass the time.

"You know, when I was Robin," Dick began.

"Here we go again," Stephanie said, rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless. Dick, like the mature adult that he was, stuck his tongue out at her.

"When I was Robin, I spent a lot of my time with Barbra. Batman was constantly telling me to 'sit this one out' and I got sick of that real fast. Babs and I would often do our own patrol, purposely leaving the heavy hitters to Bruce. We weren't stupid. Two kids going after the Joker by themselves? That's just asking to get killed. But we were sick and tired of getting pushed around by Batman. We understood that he was trying to keep us safe, but he was practically smothering us. We were never going to get the chance to learn from our mistakes because Batman never gave us the opportunity to make mistakes. I think, after I quit, he tried to loosen up a little, but he was still pretty strict," Dick trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

"I guess…" Dick started, voice lowered to a whisper, "what I'm trying to say is that Bruce always treated Robin and Batgirl like sidekicks. And I _never _want to do that, because I was on the receiving end of that treatment, and I know how much it sucks."

Dick lowered his head, looking down at his crossed legs, and Stephanie recognized that he needed some reassurance.

"But you aren't like that," Stephanie said earnestly, crawling over to sit closer to the man. "Even though Damian is a brat and hard to handle, you do your best with him. You protect him when he needs it, but give him enough freedom so that he can be independent. And you balance big brother duties and mentor duties perfectly. You make an awesome Batman."

Stephanie smiled brilliantly, and he replicated it. "Thanks, little sis," he said.

"No problem, big bro," she replied.

Then, the bat signal illuminated the sky, and the pair was off, flying across rooftops.

OoOoOoO

**Dick and Damian  
>Title: <strong>Angry Kitties**  
>Category: <strong>Family**  
>Words: <strong>286

Dick knocked on Damian's door, and without waiting for an answer, strolled in. Damian was sitting on his bed playing with something white and fluffy.

"Woah, Little D, is that a kitten?" Dick exclaimed, sitting on the bed to stroke the purring kitten.

"Tt, yes, Grayson, it is. I'm glad you know how to distinguish between different animals. I half expected you to think it was a puppy," Damian remarked snidely.

"But where did you get it?" Dick asked, picking up the kitten and looking into its light green eyes. The kitten twisted in his hands and meowed angrily, unhappy that its feet couldn't touch the ground.

"I found it in an alley while we were on patrol," the younger boy responded, staring intently as the kitten lifted a snowy paw to bat at Dick's nose.

"Aww, it's so cute! But you're going to have to convince Alfred to let you keep it," Dick said, cooing at the kitten squirming in his grip.

"So why did you decide to take it off the streets?" Dick wondered.

Damian paused, trying to come up with a suitable lie as Dick placed the now slightly annoyed kitten back on the bed. The kitten promptly darted away from Dick, afraid that it would be picked up again. Damian sighed, deciding to just go with the truth.

"Because I thought it needed somebody. Nobody wants me either," Damian muttered, hoping Grayson couldn't hear him. No such luck.

Dick tackled him to the bed in a bear hug. "That's not true, Dami! I want you!" Dick exclaimed.

Damian smiled faintly before trying to break out of Dick's hold. Now he knew how the kitten felt.

"Let go of me, Grayson!" Damian yelled.

OoOoOoO

**Jason  
>Title: <strong>Coffin**  
>Category: <strong>Angst**  
>Words: <strong>247

Jason misses death. When he was dead, he didn't have to deal with all the shit that he does in life. In death, he wasn't so _angry _all the time. He didn't have to worry about moral codes, or getting caught by Batman.

When he was dead, everything was dark and cold and numb. Nothing existed but blackness. He wasn't hurting. He didn't have to get revenge. Because he was simply… nothing. But now that he was alive again, he had to get revenge and feel human emotions.

Sometimes, Jason would lie on his bed, close his eyes, silence his buzzing thoughts, and he'd pretend that he was lying in his coffin. He'd pretend that he was dead again. But that fantasy never lasted long. The springs of his thin mattress would dig into his back, and his eyes would open to see the off-white ceiling.

Jason occasionally considered doing it. Killing himself. It would be easy: a bullet to the head, or a quick slit of the throat. Or he could make it less obvious by going out and doing stupid shit that would attract attention of enough heavy hitting criminals.

But then who would keep the crime in check? Batman? Everybody knows Batman doesn't kill. The Red Hood does. And who else would keep the Bat family on their toes?

So, for all of Jason's considerations, he'd never do it.

But that didn't mean he didn't pretend his crappy bed was his fancy, expensive coffin.

OoOoOoO

**Jason and Tim  
>Title: <strong> Undercover**  
>Category: <strong>Humor? I don't know.**  
>Words: <strong>344**  
>AN: **Jason and Tim for dodatda

The blonde-haired, green-eyed Jason Todd smirked when he saw the third Robin eating alone in a diner. He walked into the restaurant, bells on the door announcing his presence. His converse sneakers dully thudded on the linoleum as he walked towards one particular booth.

Tim glanced up from his coffee as a boy a year or two older than him slid into the seat across from him. There was something about that face that he couldn't quite pinpoint…

"Hi, I'm Jared Haywood, I'm in your Religion Studies class at Gotham U? I kinda need a tutor, and Professor Lukins recommended you," Jason said with a fake smile, the lie practiced and perfected.

Tim finally figured out what it was about the man sitting across from him. Tim smirked. "You know, Jason, if you wanted to meet me, you didn't have to go undercover."

The smile on Jason's face vanished. He was half-relieved he could stop acting like a prep, half-annoyed the Replacement had figured it out so fast. "Good, you know who I am. Gold star for you. Now let's cut the crap. Why the fuck did Bruce make you Robin?"

Tim took a sip of his coffee. "Well, for starters, Bruce didn't make me Robin. I made myself Robin."

Jason cocked an eyebrow.

"I've been following Batman and Robin since Dick was Robin. I found out when I saw Robin doing a quadruple somersault, something only Dick Grayson could do. I worked out everybody's identity on my own. After your death, Bruce became exceedingly violent and self-destructive. I knew I had to step in. I asked Dick to become Robin again, because Batman needed a Robin. He wouldn't, so I stole his Robin costume and saved Batman and Nightwing from Two-face. Bruce was forced to take me on as Robin after that."

Jason sat back, slightly in awe of the teen in front of him. But soon that dissipated and he snarled, "Well you're still just a fucking Pretender." Jason stormed out of the diner.

_Well, _Tim thought. _He took that pretty well. _

OoOoOoO

**Jason and Stephanie  
>Title: <strong>Two Against One**  
>Category: <strong>Humor, Family, Friendship**  
>Words: <strong>307

"Hey, you!"

Stephanie turned around to see who had yelled. She saw none other than the Red Hood.

"You're the girl Robin, Stephanie, aren't you?" Jason asked Batgirl.

"You're the bad Robin, Jason, aren't you?" Stephanie mimicked with a sarcastic smirk on her face.

"That's me," Jason said gleefully.

"So, Mr. Too Badass to Hang With Batman, what do you want?" Batgirl asked.

"Well… I heard you have a grudge against Red Robin…"

"Hmm," said Stephanie, looking at her nails. "He may or may not be a douche in my book."

"I, too happen to dislike him," Jason replied. Stephanie wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"And you want me to do what? Punch him in the face? Been there, done that."

"Well," Jason drawled. "April Fool's Day is tomorrow…"

Stephanie smiled evilly. "And you're suggesting we combine forces to play a cruel prank on him!" She finished, already bouncing with excitement. "Ooh, that's genius!"

"I know, I know. Please, hold your applause," Jason snarked.

"So what did you have in mind? Waking up to a room full of creepy dolls? Shampoo bottle full of Nair? Dying all his costumes pink?" Steph asked energetically.

"Well… Not dying his _costumes…_"

"His hair?"

"No, darling, his _skin. _How do you think he'll react when he walks out of the shower, dries off, and sees that his skin has turned bright blue? It will be _insane_," Jason concluded.

Steph squealed happily. "It's perfect!"

Jason slung his arm over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Okay, so here's what we're going to do. I'll give you the dye and I'll set up the camera. You put the dye in his shower head and put the note on his bed while he's showering…"

The next morning:

"JASON! STEPHANIE! I SWEAR TO GOD-" Tim screams into the peaceful Gotham morning.

OoOoOoO

**Jason and Damian  
>Title: <strong>Knots**  
>Category: <strong>Family, Humor**  
>Words: <strong>282

"See? This knot here is the best choice for binding somebody's hands together. But this one," Damian said, pointing to a different knot in the rope, "is best for tying someone to something. You can't just use the same knot for everything, Todd."

Jason scratched his head. He and Damian, in full Robin costume, were sitting on the floor of his apartment analyzing the uses of different knots. Well, more like Damian was teaching him how to tie better knots. "Well, yeah, I guess. But what is this one for?" He asked, pointing to another intricate knot tied into a spare piece of rope.

"This one is best for tying multiple objects together," Damian replied. "Here, try replicating it." Damian handed him another bit of rope.

Jason clumsily tried to copy the complex knot. Once he thought it was acceptable, he handed it back to Damian.

"Tt, how can you fail so miserably at something so simple?" Damian asked, rolling his eyes.

"Hey! It was either Knot Tying or Bomb Diffusion. I picked the one that seemed more practical," Jason defended, shoving Damian lightly.

Damian laughed and after a moment, Jason joined in, too. Their laughter slowly faded and Damian's comm-link beeped.

"Where are you, Little D? Ivy's been spotted in the park. Meet on top of Anderson's?" Grayson's voice asked in his ear.

"Be there in two minutes," Damian replied. He stood up and before he slipped out the window, he turned back to Jason.

"Next time you kidnap Grayson and I, I expect your knots will show improvement."

Jason chuckled as Damian disappeared into the night.

_It's cute how he thinks he needs an excuse to spend time with me._

OoOoOoO

**Tim  
>Title: <strong>Workaholic**  
>Category: <strong>Angst? Maybe?**  
>Words: <strong>218

Tim was a workaholic.

He wasn't afraid to admit this fact.

It was this fact that on many occasions, had saved his life. In multiple ways. Tim had a plan for everything and was prepared for every possibility. With the Teen Titans, they looked to their leader whenever anything went wrong. Tim would instruct them on the best course of action, and the team would respond without hesitation. That scared him, to be honest. They followed him so faithfully, but what if he messed up? What if he miscalculated or didn't factor something into the equation? So Tim would throw himself farther into his work, triple and quadruple checking everything.

The second way Tim's work habits had saved his life: if he was working, he couldn't think about other things. After Kon, Bart, Stephanie, Bruce, and his parents had died, he'd worked himself to the bone. He'd work straight through the night, and often would lose track of time. Sometimes he'd look at the clock, expecting it to be half an hour since he last looked, but instead it'd be six hours later. He'd work until he passed out from sleep deprivation. And as long as he was working, he couldn't feel the hole in his chest.

He wasn't afraid to admit it.

Tim was a workaholic.

OoOoOoO

**Tim and Stephanie  
>Title: <strong>Vulnerable**  
>Category: <strong>Romance, Hurt/Comfort**  
>Words: <strong>306

"Thanks a lot for having me over Tim," Stephanie said to her boyfriend, smiling.

"It's no trouble, really," Tim replied.

"Bruce seems very nice. I can tell he has your best interests at heart. And Alfred! He's just as amazing as you told me. He's an amazing cook. I was practically drooling when I saw what he'd made us. And I understand why you think of him as your grandfather. He's just so… so… There's no word to describe it!" Stephanie rambled.

"He's just Alfred," Tim explained.

"Yeah, that's it!"

"Steph?" Tim asked.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you do that?" Tim wondered.

"Do what?" Stephanie's eyebrows knitted together.

"Act like everything's alright, when it's not…"

"What do you mean?"

"Steph…" Tim whispered. "You just gave up your baby. You can't be okay."

Stephanie wrung her hands together and stared down at her lap.

"To be honest," she admitted softly, "I'm not."

"Then why pretend?"

"Because it's easier to put off feeling bad when you're around other people. I don't like people seeing how tormented I am inside. Because sometimes people take advantage of that."

"But, Steph…" Tim said, intertwining one of his hands with hers. "I would _never _take advantage of you like that."

She smiled wryly. "Yeah, well people I've trusted with my life have hurt me like that before. When I was a kid, whenever I cried, my dad would tell me to 'suck it up.'"

"You're safe here. I promise."

Stephanie looked at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. In that moment, she looked so vulnerable, and so open, and it made Tim happy that he'd gotten through the walls surrounding her heart. "Really?" She asked, voice half-desperate.

"Really," Tim said, placing a kiss on his girlfriend's lips before gently placing her head in his lap.

For the first time, Tim saw Stephanie cry.

OoOoOoO

**Tim and Damian  
>Title: <strong>Sleep Deprivation**  
>Category: <strong>Family**  
>Words: <strong>387

"Hey, Robin, are you okay?" Red Robin asked. Both of the heroes were waiting on a rooftop for Batgirl to appear. Dick was really sick, so Tim, Damian, and Stephanie were covering for him.

"Just fine," Damian replied, irritated.

"Really?" Tim challenged. "Because you look like you haven't slept in a week."

"It's only been three days!" The ten year-old snapped.

Tim sighed. "You know, that's really unhealthy. Especially for someone as young as you."

"Shut up, Drake! You don't think-" Damian cut himself off with a yawn "-I know that?"

"Maybe we should go back to the Cave," Tim suggested.

"Whatever," Damian huffed.

They both shot their grapple, heading home. Tim told Stephanie that they were turning in for the night over the comm-link. After a minute or so, Tim noticed Damian lagging behind him. He slowed his pace, keeping a watchful eye on his younger brother. This turned out to be a good idea, because soon Damian was falling towards the concrete after misjudging a jump. Tim swooped into action, catching the falling boy and landing safely on the ground.

"What happened?" Tim demanded.

"Sorry, everything's really … blurry…" Damian trailed off, yawning hugely.

Tim pursed his lips, trying to figure out the best course of action.

"Alright," Tim said, bending down. "Get on."

Tim knew Damian must have been _extremely _exhausted when he climbed on his back without protest. The boy wound his arm's loosely around the teen's neck, and Tim supported Damian's weight by placing his arms underneath Damian's knees. Tim started the slow trek back to the cave. Within minutes, Damian was snoring softly, out like a light.

Tim was pretty sure he finally understood what Dick was talking about when the man declared that being a big brother was the best job in the world. Despite the arguments Tim and Damian got in often, this quiet moment was… nice. It felt good to take care of his little brother this way. He felt responsible and brotherly as he listened to Damian's quiet snores. He glowed with pride at how civil he was being towards the little devil. Sure, it might've been because Damian was asleep. But if Tim could get Damian to act this innocent while he was awake… Well, Tim was sure he could be a much better big brother.

OoOoOoO

**Stephanie  
>Title: <strong>Girl**  
>Category: <strong>General**  
>Words: <strong>254

"You were never Robin."

"A girl? As Robin? What a terrible idea."

"You can no longer be Robin."

"Robin is the _Boy _Wonder, girly. What are you doing in his costume?"

Stephanie Brown hates people who are sexist. They told her she couldn't be a hero. She became Spoiler. They told her she couldn't be Batman's sidekick. She became Robin. They told her she couldn't ever match up to Barbra Gordon. She became Batgirl.

Stephanie took delight in proving people wrong. She was proud and a shining star in the murky night of Gotham. Despite her criminal father, she became a hero. Despite hard times in her life, she always pulled through. She was a survivor.

But she was human, too. Was she not allowed to make mistakes? Was she not allowed to have off days? Was she not allowed to occasionally succumb to the sorrow surrounding her? Was she not allowed to, every once in a while, stop smiling?

But Stephanie's smile gave her strength. _Fake it till you make it, _she'd always tell herself. So she'd pretend to be happy until she actually was. And most of the time, it worked. She smiled after she had to give up her child. She smiled after she broke up with Tim. She smiled when Bruce fired her from being Robin. She smiled straight through her fake death, and has never stopped smiling.

She's never given up, and she never will. _Especially _when people say she can't be a hero just because she's a _girl. _

OoOoOoO

**Stephanie and Damian  
>Title: <strong>Competition**  
>Category: <strong>Family, Friendship**  
>Words: <strong>301

Two-Face held a gun to Damian's head.

"Now, now, little Robin. Heads I spare your life, tails and BANG! You're dead," Harvey Dent sneered.

With a grand gesture, he tossed a coin into the air. When it landed in the criminal's palm, the blackened side was face up.

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Two-Face to pull the trigger. Instead, he heard the shattering of glass and a loud _oomph._ Damian's eyes shot open to see a triumphant Batgirl standing over a wheezing Harvey Dent. Batgirl quickly came over and freed Damian from his bonds.

"Tt. It's about time you got here. I put out that distress signal a full seven minutes ago," Damian complained as the pair began fending off attacking henchmen.

"Well, sor-ry, Mr. Ungrateful. Not all of us have a flying Batmobile," Stephanie quipped.

The two fell into silence as they continued incapacitating Two-Face's men. It was an unspoken competition between them: whoever brought down more thugs wins. The only prize was bragging rights, but to those two, bragging rights meant everything. But, despite the competition, they still had each other's back. When one of the thugs had snuck up behind Damian, Stephanie brought him down before Damian took a hit. When Stephanie got her breath knocked out of her, Damian had fought off any encroaching henchmen while she caught her breath. It was a beautiful kind of teamwork; both were trying to out-do the other, but they still protected each other.

Finally, the pair had taken down all of the thugs. The score ended up even, which neither Robin nor Batgirl were pleased with. They tied up all of the men, including Two-Face, and waiting for the cops to arrive.

"You know, Robin, I _did _save your life," Stephanie bragged.

"Tt. I still think you're fat."

OoOoOoO

**Damian  
>Title: <strong>The Hug**  
>Category: <strong>Family**  
>Words: <strong>399**  
>AN: **Damian wants a hug for WestAero13

Sometimes, Damian really wanted a hug. Especially since his mother had told him she never wanted to see him again.

Not that he'd ever admit it, but he, too, sometimes felt the longing for physical affection. Growing up in the environment that he did, showing camaraderie was frowned upon. Assassins-to-be didn't cuddle. Period. But, despite all his claims that he was not, Damian was just a kid. He wanted to be held and be comforted by adults that loved him.

As a kid, Damian never actually did _kid things. _Hide-and-seek was hide-from-the-ninjas-trying-to-kill-you. Hot potato was played with a grenade. Nursery rhymes were encoded messages. For once, Damian just wanted to be a normal kid. He wanted to go to school and not be grade levels ahead of other kids his age. He wanted to go on "play dates," and play catch or tag or capture the flag _without _it being a training exercise.

The closest he ever got to being a kid was when he spent time with Dick Grayson. The big oaf was still a child, despite being twenty-five. But most attempts by Grayson to make him do kid things had to be thwarted, no matter how tempted Damian was to go along with it. He was Robin, partner of Batman, and did not have time for childish things. No matter how badly he wanted to be a child, he had to remember his position.

But… Surely indulging in a childish want such as getting hugged just once wasn't bad, right? Adults hugged all the time, so if Damian did it just once it would be okay.

Damian walked determinedly into Dick's room. Dick was sitting on his bed, reading, but he set the book aside and stood up when Damian came in. Damian walked straight up to him and wound his arms around the older man's midsection and buried his face into his brother's chest. Dick was shocked for a moment before hugging Damian back.

Memories of his mother's face and her barbed words came flowing into his brain. The reality of her disowning him finally sunk in, and salty tears flowed down Damian's face, making a wet spot on Dick's shirt. Damian's shoulders shook with silent sobs as Dick ran his hand up and down Damian's back. They stayed like that for several minutes. Damian pulled away and glared at Dick.

"Never speak of this, Grayson."

OoOoOoO

**Bruce  
>Title: <strong>The Robins to His Batman**  
>Category: <strong>General**  
>Words: <strong>399

All of Bruce's children held a special place in his heart. He loved all of them, despite their transgressions.

Dick was his first child. The little ball of energy and happiness. He was the first Robin to bring light to Gotham's Dark Knight. But Dick had to fly from the nest some time. Even after growing up and making a name for himself, Dick always had time to give his old man a hand. Dick was the bird that started it all.

Jason was his second child. The rebel and what some people called the "Bad Robin." But, to Bruce, Jason wasn't a bad kid. Sure, he directly disobeyed Bruce and was constantly rude, but that's just what made him _Jason. _And, when Jason died, Bruce was torn to pieces. This Robin hadn't flown out of the nest, he'd fallen. Even when he came back as a savage vigilante that killed where Batman didn't, Bruce still loved his son. Nothing could change that.

Tim was his third child. The smart little boy who had figured out Bruce Wayne and Batman were one and the same. Tim was the one who had brought the light of Robin back to Batman when Bruce swore he wouldn't take on another Robin after Jason's death. Tim was the son that was so much like him, yet so very different. When Tim left to join the Teen Titans, Bruce knew he was another Robin that had left the nest.

Stephanie was his fourth child. The one girl he had taken in and the Robin that he'd wronged. Stephanie was sunshine and rainbows, always smiling. It had been refreshing to see her smiling face constantly. But she was the Robin he had pushed out of the nest. He'd been harsher on her than the rest, and had fired her as Robin. But she'd been determined, and had ended up faking her death. When she returned as Batgirl, Bruce was secretly glad.

Damian was his youngest child. The Robin with a tough outer shell and the only one actually related to him. It was odd seeing his features in a child, and Bruce regretted not being for there for Damian until much later. Dick was the first Batman to mentor this Robin, and he'd done well by him. And then Bruce became Damian's partner. He would wait for this Robin to fly from the nest, too.

OoOoOoO

**A/N: **Wow, those took a lot longer to write than I thought. I wanted to post this on Tuesday, but I missed by like 30 minutes. Oh well. Next chapter will be back to normal. I'll post it Thursday (and no, not 12:30 AM Friday morning). I'm really tired, so if you catch any mistakes, tell me and I'll fix them. What was your favorite part of the chapter? Drop me a review telling me what you think!


	6. Kittens and Kisses

**Title: **Kittens and Kisses**  
>Words: <strong>7,425**  
>Category: <strong>Romance, Humor, little bit of angst**  
>Rating: <strong>T for boy kisses and Jason's mouth.**  
>Pairing: <strong>Jason/Dick**  
>Summary: <strong>Jason finds a stray kitten and takes it in. Little does he know, the kitten is actually Dick Grayson.

**A/N: **It's KarateKitteh's birthday on DA. This is for her. Happy Birthday Savannah! I spent ALL DAY working on this. The longest thing I've written EVER. Seriously. Timeline: Post-Reboot, but Jason doesn't team up with the Outlaws. And the Nightwing costume has fingerstripes because they're sexy. Excuse any mistakes, I'm tired. Point them out to me and I'll fix them.

Oh, and Damian Wayne can speak the language of cats because he's BAMF. And it serves the plot.

OoOoOoO

There was a new criminal plaguing Gotham. And it was Nightwing's job to stop him.

He called himself The Wizard. _Yeah, real original, _Nightwing thought. But he did live up to his name; The Wizard was capable of using very advanced magic. He'd been wreaking havoc upon Gotham by turning buildings into large trees, summoning magical creatures, and had even taken to banishing important members of society to other dimensions.

Nightwing waited silently behind some crates as he heard The Wizard muttering to himself. The vigilante had followed the criminal back to his hideout. Surprise, surprise, the hideout was in an abandoned warehouse. _We really need to start monitoring all these warehouses, _Nightwing thought to himself wryly. _They're every aspiring criminal's wet dream. _The former Robin decided now would be the best time to make his move.

Nightwing threw a smoke bomb in The Wizard's general direction and darted out of his hiding spot. He'd cleared half the distance between the criminal and himself when The Wizard called out.

"Esrepsid!" The Wizard shouted.

Suddenly, all the smoke that had been concealing Nightwing's advance disappeared. Nightwing cursed mentally as he jumped into the air. He flipped twice before coming out into a kick that hit The Wizard solidly in a chest. The magic user fell to the ground, air whooshing out of his lungs.

Nightwing stood over the wheezing warlock, hands on his hips. "Ready to surrender?" He asked pointedly.

The Wizard coughed, then smiled evilly. "I've still got lots of tricks up my sleeve, birdie."

Nightwing merely cocked an eyebrow, ready to handle whatever the criminal threw at him.

"Nettik a otni nrut!" The Wizard called, mischievous glint in his eye.

In the blink of an eye, everything around Nightwing seemed to be getting… bigger? _No, _Nightwing realized, _I'm getting smaller! _Dick Grayson looked down, expecting to see his hands, but instead he saw _paws._

The Wizard laughed, standing up. Dick had to crane his head back to see The Wizard's face. "Aw, little birdie, don't you make an adorable kitty?"

Dick tried to retort back, but all that came out of his mouth was an angry _meow_.

"No, no," The Wizard chided, "kitties can't talk, so neither can you."

Dick hissed and glared at the criminal (as best as he could when he was a cat).

"Now be a good little kitty," the magic user encouraged, crouching down. "And come here, so The Wizard can take care of you."

Dick wasn't about to make himself vulnerable, even in this form. He ran back to the crates he had been hiding behind earlier, ducking behind them. _Wow, running on four legs is a lot different than running on two legs, _Dick mused briefly.

The Wizard was getting up to run after the dark gray kitten when the Red Hood burst into the warehouse.

"What's this?" He asked with mock-surprise. "Another birdie?"

The Red Hood merely growled and charged The Wizard.

"Elzzis!" The warlock commanded, pointing at the second Robin's helmet.

Red Hood tore off his rapidly heating helmet and threw it to the ground, leaving only a red domino mask obscuring his identity. Once it hit the ground, it stopped sizzling.

"Don't you know, Little Red Riding Hood? The first Robin _already _tried stopping me. That didn't go so well for him," The Wizard taunted

"What did you do to Nightwing?" The anti-hero demanded.

"Well, let's just say that the first little birdie is completely harmless now."

The Red Hood lunged, and before the magic user could recite another spell, the vigilante had covered his mouth with a gloved hand. The second Robin then proceeded to gag and beat The Wizard unconscious.

Dick had seen the beginning of the confrontation between his younger brother and the magic user. But after a minute or so, the hero-turned-kitten had gotten incredibly dizzy. This side effect always seemed to happen to Dick. Way back when, Zatanna Zatarra had asked Dick if she could practice her magic on him. Curious, the first Robin had let his friend cast spells on him. But after just a few enchantments, they had to stop because to him, it looked like the room was spinning and he was ready to hurl. Zatanna had to explain that some people's bodies weren't made for magic and had bad reactions to it. Dick had avoided magic from then on.

The former Nightwing decided that sleep would be the best way to rid himself of the dizziness. He searched for somewhere other than the cold concrete to sleep on. The crates he had hidden himself behind were rotting, so those were out. A flash of red about five feet in front of him caught his eye, and his furry face lit up. _That's the place. It's perfect, _thought Dick, laughing mentally. He stumbled over to the red helmet, and climbed inside. The helmet's opening was pointing towards the ceiling, and the helmet rocked back and forth as Dick squirmed into a more comfortable position. The inside of the helmet was padded and it was still slightly warm from the spell cast on it earlier. Dick's head was poking out the opening of the helmet, and he leaned his head against the edge of it. Curling up in his brother's helmet was a lot more comfy than he would have thought. Head still spinning, the kitten's eyes gently drifted shut.

On the other side of the large room of the warehouse, the Red Hood had just finished tying The Wizard up. The sorcerer was unconscious from the beating that he'd given him. The vigilante pulled his gloves off disgustedly; they were covered in saliva from muffling The Wizards attempts at casting spells on him. He used a disposable cell phone to call in an anonymous tip giving The Wizard's location to the GCPD.

The Red Hood looked around for a moment for his signature red helmet before spotting it. But… There was something gray and fluffy sticking out of it…? As the anti-hero got closer, he bit back a chuckle. A stray kitten had decided his helmet was a good place to nap.

Dick's ears twitched as he heard someone approaching. His eyes had been closed for several minutes, but he hadn't actually fallen asleep yet. Luckily, the dizziness had faded to a manageable level. He was worried slightly that it was The Wizard that was approaching him, but when no snide remarks came, Dick decided that it was just his little brother. Dick didn't even bother opening eyes.

The Red Hood carefully picked up his helmet, cradling it against his chest with one arm. He brought his other hand up to pet the slumbering feline. He stroked the top of the kitten's head with the pad of his large thumb. Dick was surprised to hear himself purring at the gentle treatment. He suddenly understood why pets enjoyed being petted; it felt… nice.

Dick lazily opened his eyes, still purring. He looked up into his brother's masked eyes. The vigilante's face softened. "Hey there, sleepy kitty. Where did you come from?" He asked softly.

Dick tried to say, "It's me, it's Nightwing," but all that came out were several meows.

The Red Hood looked at the kitten's neck, searching for a collar. He didn't find one. "Looks like you don't have a home, little one. Are you hungry? I think I have some tuna in my apartment…"

Dick meowed appreciatively. He hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"I'll take that as a yes," the anti-hero said. "But I'm going to need my helmet back."

Dick meowed weakly in surprise as he was carefully lifted him from his nest. His little brother held the kitten to his chest as he put his helmet on one-handed.

"You're lucky I live nearby, kitty. Wouldn't want any of the villains to see the big, bad Red Hood cuddling a kitten."

The Red Hood started walking with the cat still tucked against his chest. Dick laughed, and it came out as a _mrrow._

"That's right, kitten. The Red Hood isn't all guns and revenge. He's a cat person, too."

OoOoOoO

Once the man and the kitten got into the apartment, the Red Hood took off his helmet. He then peeled off his mask, revealing the blue-green eyes of Jason Todd. Jason set the kitten on the floor and Dick wandered off to explore. The apartment was basic; one bedroom, one bathroom, and a combined kitchen and living area. But, at the same time, the apartment felt very lived-in and homey. Dick had half-expected it to be messy, but it was actually pretty tidy. Dick jumped up on the old couch, pleased that his feline body could at least do that.

Dick took a moment to examine his paws. They were tiny and dark gray. The pad of his paw was a light peach and very smooth. Dick flexed his paw, and out came claws. The kitten stared in wonder at the sharp, thorn-like claws. He flexed his paw again, and they were gone. Dick stared in fascination as he kept retracting his claws, in wonder as they disappeared and reappeared.

"Kitty! C'mere!" Jason called.

Dick was startled out of the game he was playing with his claws. He ran to Jason, who was in the kitchen. Jason set a bowl filled with tuna on the ground for him. Happily, Dick stuck his head down into the bowl and devoured his meal. After he'd finished off the fish and licked the bowl clean, he looked up at Jason. The man was leaning against the counter, munching on a tuna sandwich. The man had been observing Dick, and the kitten felt a little self-conscious. The cat sat on the linoleum floor of the kitchen, tail twitching back and forth as he waited for Jason to finish eating. The feline and the human simply stared at each other for several minutes. Finally, Jason finished eating his sandwich and broke the silence.

"I feel like I'm actually talking to someone when I talk to you, kitten. Is that weird?"

Dick mewed in disagreement, and Jason took it as a no.

"Can you understand me?"

Dick bobbed his head, nodding as best as he could as a cat.

"Purr if you understand what I'm saying."

The man-turned-feline purred. Jason smiled.

"You know, if you've got a momma cat to go home to, I won't stop you. I'll leave the window open."

Jason opened the window on the fire escape, and not checking to see what Dick would do, walked into his bedroom. Dick hesitated for a moment. He could leave and find Bruce. He'd be able to get someone to undo the spell and he could be human again. But that would mean leaving Jason… The last hour he'd spent with Jason reminded him of what the boy was like as Robin. Dick didn't want Jason to be angry and alone all the time. It was obvious the man had a soft spot for cats. But what would happen if Dick randomly turned back into a human? Jason would be livid, surely. So Dick had the option of leaving Jason and becoming human again, or staying with Jason but remaining a kitten. Dick made his choice instantly, knowing which one was the best for everybody.

Dick walked to the doorway of Jason's bedroom. The man had stripped down to his boxers and undershirt. If it was possible, the cat would have blushed. He had never really taken into account how much his little brother had filled out. His brother was _hot._

Jason had curled up under the dark green comforter and was about to fall asleep when he felt a light mass jump onto the bed. The man rolled over to look at the kitten.

"You didn't leave," Jason said, surprise coloring his tone. "So you're an orphan like me, little kitty."

Jason heard Dick's mew of affirmation and smiled. "Well, I'm not a real orphan. I have a family, but they don't want me," Jason admitted. "And to be honest, I'm beginning to not want them either."

Jason yawned hugely. It was nearly four in the morning.

"Good night, pretty kitty."

Dick curled up in a little ball, his tail coming to rest on his nose. He was so close to Jason's chest that he could hear the man's heart thumping against his rib cage.

With Jason heartbeat as his lullaby, the dark kitten fell into a light sleep.

OoOoOoO

At about ten A.M., Dick woke up to Jason thrashing on the bed.

Jason was caught in a nightmare and was violently lashing out. Dick had jump up to dodge Jason's flailing arm. Dick climbed up Jason's face and tried to wake the man up. Dick pawed Jason's cheek and closed eyes. Nothing. Jason was still squirming about, face twisted into an expression of terror. Dick's heart twisted for his little brother.

Finally, Dick swatted Jason's nose with his paw, and the man woke up gasping. Jason's eyes shot open and met the deep blue eyes of the kitten. They gazed deep into each other's eyes for a full minute before Jason took Dick off of his chest so that he could sit up.

Jason ran his hands through his hair and, not for the first time, Dick found himself staring at the white tuft of hair that hung into his brother's eyes.

"Sorry about that, kitty," Jason said. "Sometimes I have nightmares about the Joker beating me to death. Other times it's Bruce beating me to death. And the worst is dreaming that I've woken up in my coffin again."

Jason sighed, and the two sat in silence for a moment. Dick felt so bad for his estranged little brother. Jason was all by himself. It must suck waking up from a nightmare with no one to comfort you. Dick resolved to stay by his brother's side, even if he eventually turned back into a human.

"You know, kitten, if you're going to be staying with me, I should probably give you a name," Jason said thoughtfully.

Jason stared at the kitten beside him for a good while, trying to decide on a good name.

"You know who you remind me of? My big brother, Dick. I swear you two have the same eyes. But don't worry, I won't name you Dick, cause that's a stupid name."

Dick meowed indignantly. Jason misinterpreted it, thinking the kitten hated the name, too.

"How about Little Wing? That's what he used to call me."

Dick meowed in agreement, glad that his little brother still thought about him.

"But if anyone asks, your name is LW, okay? Dickie-bird would give me hell if he ever learned I named a cat after his nickname for me."

Dick _mrrowed _in laughter. It was just so ironic.

Jason got out of bed. "I'm gonna go get ready then go run some errands."

Jason gathered some clothes and went into the bathroom. As the cat heard the shower turn on, Dick wondered what exactly cats did to pass the time.

After Jason had fed him and left, Dick ended up spending most of his time exploring the apartment some more. He'd also discovered that he really enjoyed climbing things. He'd climbed to the top of the bookcase, which was fun, but not much of a challenge. When he got thirsty he climbed up onto the kitchen counter and managed to turn one of the knobs by the sink. He drank from the stream of water flowing from the faucet. Dick had also wandered into the bathroom and had been shocked by his reflection. His fur was mainly dark gray, but along his flanks he had lighter gray stripes. His face and the insides of his ears were light gray as well. He watched as his striped tail swished behind him and noticed that his eyes were still the same blue that they were when he was a human.

When Jason had finally come home around 4:30, Dick was taking a cat nap (the kitten laughed mentally at the pun) on the ceiling fan.

"LW?" Jason called, wondering if the kitten had gotten bored and left.

Jason would never admit it, but he sighed in relief when he heard his kitten meow in response. When he saw where the cat was, he laughed.

"How'd you get up there, kitty?" He asked as Dick jumped down from the ceiling fan onto the table below it. He jumped down onto a chair, then onto the ground. He walked over to Jason and rubbed up against his legs, purring. Jason picked him up and Dick meowed happily.

"Sorry for leaving you alone so long, kitten. But I had stuff to do."

OoOoOoO

Three hours later found Jason watching the seven o'clock news and Dick in the dark kitchen. Dick didn't really mind the dark, as his night vision had increased dramatically. He was eating a chicken leg that Jason had left for him.

Jason was watching on the news for any potential cases. It was dark out, and the Bats were probably already prowling, but the Red Hood didn't start his patrol until almost ten.

All of a sudden, Batman and Robin were climbing through his window. Jason cussed and grabbed a gun from a drawer of the end table next to him.

He aimed the gun at Batman. The bullet wouldn't get through the layers of armor on the Dark Knight's chest, but at point blank range, it'd hurt a whole hell of a lot. Jason wasn't stupid. He knew he didn't stand a chance against Batman and Robin armed with only a gun. Dick watched tensely from the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jason demanded.

Batman narrowed his eyes, but got straight to the point. "Nightwing is missing."

In the kitchen, Dick listened to their conversation tersely, meal forgotten.

"And why the fuck should I care?" Snarled Jason, gun still steadily aimed at his adoptive father's heart.

"Because you were the last person to see him, Todd," Robin interrupted, bristling.

"I haven't seen the Golden Boy in a month," Jason spat.

"You were the one who took down The Wizard," Batman stated. "The last signal we got from Nightwing's comm-link was in The Wizard's hideout, 20 minutes before you called in an anonymous tip giving The Wizard's whereabouts."

"I. Have. Not. Seen. Nightwing," Jason ground out.

"Do you have any clue as to what happened to him?" The Boy Wonder asked venomously.

"The Wizard was talking shit about him," Jason admitted reluctantly.

"What did he say?" Batman interrogated his foster son.

"He said I wasn't the first to try to bring him down, so I assumed Nightwing took a crack at him. I asked what happened to him, and Wizard told me, and I quote, 'the first little birdie is completely harmless now.'"

Batman and Robin shared a look.

"Now get the fuck out of my apartment!" Jason yelled.

Thankfully, Batman and Robin took their leave. During their questioning of Jason, Batman hadn't noticed the blue eyes, eerily similar to Dick Grayson's watching them from the kitchen counter. But Robin had.

Once the Dynamic Duo had left, the kitten had jumped down from the counter, ignoring his half-eaten chicken. Jason had turned the TV off, and was now pinching the bridge of his nose. Dick hopped up into Jason's lap and curled up there. Jason glanced down to see his kitten's blue eye looking up into his gaze.

Jason sighed angrily. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Little Wing. I just get so _angry _sometimes. Bruce let me die and then doesn't do a single damn thing about the fucker that murdered me."

Dick meowed, wishing more than anything Jason could understand him. _Bruce still loves you, Jay. He put the Joker in a body cast for six months. We all miss you, _Dick tried to convey.

"Did he not love me enough? If it was _Nightwing _that the Joker killed, Bruce wouldn't have hesitated for a second. Was it because I was a bad kid? Did he think I died because I wasn't following orders? Does that _justify _my death?" Jason asked angrily.

"And then Nightwing. Goddamn Dick-fucking-Grayson. He begs me to come home. Apologizes for not being a brother to me back when I was Robin. Says he blames himself for not being there. That ass."

Dick's heart broke. Jason hated him. He looked down at his paws. But his head shot back up when he felt a drop of water splash onto his back. Jason was _crying_?

"But… No matter how angry I am, I still miss them. I fucking wish I was back in those ridiculous scaly panties, and stirring up trouble at the Manor like the little hellion that I was. But there's no going back. I've broken too many of Batman's rules; there's too much blood on my hands. I've condemned myself to a lonely future. I know it. I'll be alone forever."

Jason's tears came faster, and Dick understood. At first, when Jason came back, he didn't want to be part of the family again. But now he did, except Jason thought he'd fallen too far to love.

Dick jumped up onto Jason's shoulder. He balanced precariously, then, hesitantly, he leaned over and licked Jason's cheek.

"I'll be by your side, forever," Dick promised, meowing. "I'll never leave you, little brother."

Jason chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it. "You probably just promised you'd always love me or some shit like that. Am I right?"

Dick meowed quietly.

Jason's face softened. "You're a good kitty."

The Red Hood didn't go on patrol that night. He simply laid in his bed, telling his cat about the good ol' days: when he was Robin. The feline listened intently, even though he'd heard most of the stories. The pair fell asleep content.

OoOoOoO

The next morning, Jason and Dick were woken by a knock at the door.

Jason groaned, wondering who the hell was visiting him at this hour. They'd have to be content with him opening the door in a black wife beater and his blue boxers, because that's what they were going to get. The knocking got more insistent as Jason tried to detangle himself from the blanket.

"Gimme a minute! Geez!" He yelled.

Dick merely cracked an eye open at the commotion. He yawned, then tried to fall back asleep.

Jason finally stumbled out of his bedroom and towards the door. He didn't bother to look through the peep hole. That was his first mistake.

He opened the door, yawning. When he saw the Wayne butler standing outside his apartment, his eyes widened comically. Then, he tried to slam the door shut. That was his second mistake. No one says no to Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred's foot caught the door as Jason tried to shut it.

"Master Jason, is that any way to treat a guest?" Alfred scolded.

Jason died a little inside when he heard Alfred's voice. It was the first time Alfred had spoken to him since before his death.

"I've never been very good at _polite_," Jason tried to sneer, but it came out choked and weak.

Alfred simply cocked an eyebrow. "I suppose so. I'm here to check in on you, as Masters Bruce and Damian finally managed tracked you down to ask about Master Richard. Master Bruce does not know I am here, so there is no reason for you to object."

Jason just kind of stared, wide-eyed, at his pseudo-grandfather.

Alfred moved into the kitchen, setting down the basket of food he had brought along with him. "I shall prepare some breakfast, Master Jason."

"Uh… Yeah, okay. I'm gonna go get dressed," Jason mumbled.

When Dick heard Alfred's voice, he smiled. _Alfred, you saint, _he thought.

Dick hopped out of bed lazily. He leaned back on his haunches, stretching out his front legs. He repeated the action, except leaning forward so he could stretch out his back legs. He wondered idly if being a cat would have any effect on his acrobatics.

Dick trailed into the kitchen, passing Jason on the way. Alfred was cooking sausages, and the kitten's mouth watered at the smell. Dick rubbed up against Alfred's legs, glad to see a familiar face.

Alfred looked down when he felt something push against his legs. He smiled at the fluffy, dark gray kitten.

"Master Jason?" He called. "When did you acquire a cat?"

"Oh, LW? I found him a coupla nights ago. He's pretty well fed for a stray," Jason replied from the bedroom, where he was pulling a shirt over his head.

Dick hopped up onto the counter next to Alfred, curling his tail over his paws as he watched the butler work.

Alfred fed him several scraps as he cooked. The older man could've sworn there was something familiar about the feline…

"Master Richard?" Alfred whispered. "Is that you?"

Dick nodded and meowed, glad that someone finally figured it out.

Alfred sighed. "Well, it is a relief that you are safe, even though you are in this predicament. And I am glad that I am not the only one who has been trying to keep Master Jason company. How does that boy stand it; being alone all the time?"

Dick meowed sadly.

Breakfast progressed surprisingly well. Alfred had cooked pancakes and sausages. The two men had sat at the small table and Dick had sat on the edge of the table. Jason occasionally fed Dick some of his food, and was surprised that Alfred did not complain. But Jason could tell that Alfred and his kitten had already made a connection. After the butler had washed the dishes, at his insistence, Alfred announced that he had to go, but that he'd be back soon. Jason had said goodbye and Dick had rubbed up against the old man's legs again.

After Alfred had left, Jason was cleaning in the kitchen. Dick was sitting on the counter, listening as Jason chatted aimlessly at him. The kitten occasionally mewed at something the man said. Jason was blindly groping for something on the counter next to Dick when his hand hit the syrup that was still out from breakfast. The still-open plastic bottle landed on top of the cat, covering him in sticky-sweet syrup. Dick meowed loudly in alarm, and Jason looked up. The man laughed as he righted the syrup bottle.

"Haha, Little Wing, you're all sticky!" Jason exclaimed, laughing

Dick glared at the man, hissing.

"Oh, you're angry that I got syrup all over your fur, aren't you?"

The kitten narrowed his eyes.

"Aw, it's okay. I'll give you a bath, and you'll be fine."

Jason went over to the large kitchen sink and put the stopper in the drain. He turned on the faucet and went to the bathroom to grab some shampoo. He came back and, deciding that there was enough water in the sink, turned off the faucet.

"C'mere, Little Wing," Jason said, beckoning for him.

Dick was reluctant to go. That water was probably freezing.

Jason rolled his eyes and picked up the syrup-covered kitten. He gently placed Dick into the sink. Dick meowed loudly, because the water was like _ice._ He tried to jump out of the sink, but Jason wouldn't have it and pushed him down into the water. Feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth metal of the sink, Dick slid around the makeshift tub. Vainly, the kitten tried using his claws to grip the edge of the sink and pull himself out, but Jason was there. Jason was reaching out to nab the fleeing kitten, but Dick's grip slipped and his claws came down on Jason's arm. Dick instantly froze.

"Ow, ouch, shit, Little Wing," Jason cursed as he held his arm. Bright scarlet blood welled up from three long cuts that stretched the length of the man's forearm.

Guilt consumed the kitten. He hadn't meant to hurt Jason; he'd just been trying to get away from the biting chill of the water. He hung his head, shivering as he obediently sat in the freezing water.

Jason looked back at the sink, expecting his kitten to have fled while the man was distracted. Instead he saw a trembling, crestfallen kitten waiting for Jason to acknowledge him.

"Hey, it's okay, Little Wing. I've had a lot worse. Don't beat yourself up about it," Jason comforted.

Dick didn't feel any better.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up," Jason said, sticking his hands into the water. He immediately pulled them out. "Wow, okay, that's cold. No wonder you were trying to get out."

Jason turned the knob for hot water, and soon Dick stopped shivering. Once the water was lukewarm, Jason turned off the faucet and began washing his kitten. He scrubbed most of the syrup from Dick's fur with his hands before pouring some shampoo on the still kitten. Dick stayed as still as possible while Jason cleaned him. The cat couldn't help but stare guiltily at the three scratches on his brother's forearm. As Jason lathered the shampoo onto the dark kitten, he noticed how depressed the kitten still looked. The man sighed as he turned the faucet on and held the feline under it. Jason massaged all the shampoo from the kitten's fur before pulling the stopper out of the drain and shutting the faucet off.

Jason frowned at his pet. His kitten was a chatty kitten, and an affectionate one, too. Dick hadn't made a sound or had leaned into Jason's touch since he'd gotten scratched. Jason picked up a towel and dried Dick as best as he could.

Several minutes later, the pair were lying on Jason's bed. Dick was lying unnaturally still and Jason was staring up at the ceiling. Jason was trying to think of how he could make his sad kitten realize that he was forgiven.

Silently, Dick scooted closer to Jason's arm. Jason looked up when he felt something on his arm. His kitten was licking the angry red marks he'd clawed into his brother's arm. Dick's tiny pink tongue ran over the marks, saying sorry in the only way he knew how.

Dick only felt forgiven after the marks had faded.

OoOoOoO

Dick and Jason spent a month together, having the same routine throughout the entire period of time. They'd wake up between nine and ten and would eat a lazy breakfast. Alfred came for an hour in the morning every other day, so sometimes he'd eat with them, too. Jason would go out and do whatever it was that he did every day until about four, leaving Dick to his own devices. Dick would usually climb things and explore until he could navigate the apartment blindfolded. Once Jason came home, Dick would greet him warmly, rubbing against his legs and purring. Jason would clean or read or do some paperwork as he chatted with his kitten. Dick would follow him around, cuddling up to him whenever he could and meowing his responses to the conversation. Most of the time, Jason could decipher what Dick was saying. Then, they'd have dinner and watch TV until about ten. At ten, Jason would open his locked closet and become the Red Hood. Sometimes, on a slow night, Dick would follow the Red Hood around Gotham. Dick was close enough that Red Hood always knew he was there, but far enough that the kitten was out of harm's way. Dick liked to follow the Red Hood because on those nights when his kitten was following, he never killed. After the Red Hood deemed patrol over, the duo would go back to Jason's apartment. Jason would strip to his undershirt and boxers and the man and his kitten would fall asleep. Jason had nightmares twice a week, but Dick was always there to wake him up whenever they got too intense. Then, it would be morning and the cycle would start again.

Once, when Jason came home from running errands, his kitten was not there to greet him. He nearly had a panic attack, thinking that one of the few constants in his fucked-up life had abandoned him. Then, he heard his kitten's distressed mews and nearly wept with relief. Dick had gotten himself stuck under the couch, and Jason laughed at his predicament. The man had ended up having to lift up the couch so the feline could free himself. Once Dick could unwedge himself from underneath the piece of furniture, he'd darted out and leaped into Jason's arms. The two had cuddled for quite a while that night, as they'd realized that they weren't sure what they would do without each other.

One time, Jason had been standing next to the table reading a letter he'd gotten rather intently. Jason was more focused on than letter than he was on Dick, and the kitten was jealous. The kitten was staring at Jason's back when he realized he'd climbed everything in the apartment except for Jason. So Dick coiled up, tighter than a spring, and jumped, reaching out. Jason smiled faintly as he felt a weight settle just above the back of his knee. Dick used his claws to grip onto the rough material of Jason's jeans. But Dick was being very careful with his claws, making sure not to scratch Jason's skin, as he had been since the bath incident. Jason held very still as his kitten climbed him. Dick carefully climbed up Jason's jeans until he reached the bottom of the man's black hoodie. It was odd adjusting from the firm material of denim to the flimsy material of Jason's sweatshirt. But Dick was determined and didn't slow down until he'd gotten to Jason's hood. The kitten took a brief break, laying in the hood, but then scrambled onto Jason's broad shoulder. From there, Dick jumped again and steadied himself on top of Jason's unruly hair. Dick meowed in victory, celebrating his accomplishment like one would celebrate making it to the top of Mount Everest. Dick waved a paw in front of Jason's eyes, as if to say, _look, I'm taller than you now. _Jason chuckled and plucked the precariously perched kitten off the top of his head. Jason cuddled his kitten to his chest and decided that the cat was the cutest thing ever.

OoOoOoO

One day, Damian asked during breakfast, "Pennyworth? Do _you _know where Grayson is?"

Damian hadn't really expected an answer.

"Why, yes, I do, Master Damian," Alfred replied evenly.

Damian's jaw dropped and Bruce choked on his coffee. Bruce coughed and cleared his throat.

"What? Why haven't you told us? Where is he? Is he safe?" Bruce asked in a rush.

"Master Richard is safe. He is, ah… staying with a friend."

"Who?" Bruce demanded.

"It's not my place to say, sir. But I can say that both he and his friend are very content."

Damian and Bruce shared a perplexed look. Damian opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Alfred.

"More orange juice, Master Damian?"

OoOoOoO

Once, while the Red Hood was out on patrol, he met up with the Boy Wonder. The anti-hero was crouched down, quietly conversing with his kitten. Robin had swung onto the rooftop without Red Hood noticing.

"Is that a _kitten, _Hood?" The young hero asked, stunned at the picture of the rogue Robin cooing at a kitten.

Red Hood stiffened up at the sudden voice. Dick mewed comfortingly, trying to ease the tension in his brother's muscles.

"Why yes, Boy Blunder, it is. What great detective skills you have," the older vigilante sneered.

Dick licked Red Hood's gloved hand, trying to convey _I'll be right back._

The kitten walked over to Robin and rubbed against the boy's legs. Red Hood straightened up, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily as he watched his kitten interact with the young vigilante.

Robin kneeled in front of the feline. Dick sat, curling his tail over his paws.

"Damian, it's Dick," the cat meowed. The Boy Wonder's eyes widened underneath his mask. "The Wizard turned me into a cat. Alfred already knows. Don't tell _anyone_. I've gotten Jason to kill less and less, and telling him now could ruin it."

Robin nodded determinedly.

"You can _understand _him, Demon?" The Red Hood asked, dumbfounded.

"Tt. Of course I can. It's a gift," Robin retorted, waving the other man off.

"Anyway, I need you to get to The Wizard and make him reverse the spell. And be nice to Jason," Dick mewed to his former partner.

"Yes, sir," the young hero replied. Turning to the Red Hood, he said, "Your cat is incredibly intelligent and well taken care of. I suppose you are not entirely useless. Carry on here. We shall meet again, Hood."

Robin jumped off the side of the building, leaving a confused Red Hood in his wake.

"What was that all about?" The anti-hero asked, looking at his kitten.

Dick mewed noncommittally.

OoOoOoO

Jason and Dick were sitting on the couch, watching the news. Jason was stroking his dark gray kitten. The cat felt his purr rumbling in his chest. Both were exceedingly content. Jason had a constant in his life, and Dick had become closer than he'd ever thought possible with his younger brother. Both of them were happier than they had been in a long time.

Suddenly, Dick felt the dizzying effect of magic descending upon him. The world got a little bit smaller, and when he looked down, he saw the finger striped gloves of his Nightwing costume. _Good boy, Damian, _he thought.

Jason jumped off the couch as his adorable little kitten turned into Dick Grayson as his Nightwing persona.

Nightwing peeled of his mask, revealing deep blue eyes. The deep blue eyes of Dick Grayson; _the deep blue eyes of his kitten._

"Nice day to be a human, isn't it?" Dick chirped, glad that Jason would finally be able to understand him.

"You… You…" Jason fumbled for words as the pieces of the puzzle slid into place.

"Yes, me," Dick quipped. "Ah, it feels so good to _talk_. It's so annoying when you talk and all that comes out of your mouth are _meows_."

"You were my kitten?" Jason asked, in shock.

"Yep! Little Wing, LW, kitty, kitten, whatever you wanna call me!" Dick said cheerily, reveling in the sound of his own voice.

The anger finally hit. "And you just let me fucking believe that you were a cat? So you could listen to all my deep dark secrets? _'Oh, let's go give Jason something to live for then tell him it was all a lie! That'll be fun!'_" Jason shouted, mimicking Dick's voice.

"No, Jay," Dick pleaded. "It wasn't a lie. I love you."

"Like hell you do!" Jason roared. "Who the fuck do you think you are, worming your way into my heart like that?"

"Your brother!" Dick insisted, half-shouting. Dick started again, quieter, "Jay, you've been along for so long. I hadn't how much you were hurting until I saw it first-hand. You _need _somebody. You need someone who will wake you up when you're having a nightmare. You need someone who will show you affection constantly. You need someone who will keep you from killing. You need someone who will _love you for who you are._ I was trying to be that person, even though I was stuck in the body of a kitten. I love you, Jason."

Jason was glaring at Dick throughout the older man's speech, fists clenched. But soon unshed tears were sparkling in his eyes. The quiet conviction in Dick's voice took his breath away. And looking into his older brother's eyes, _the eyes of his companion for the past month, _Jason came undone. Tears slowly streamed down his face. He hated himself for feeling so weak, for becoming so attached to that stupid kitten. But none of that mattered once Dick wrapped his arms around him. Jason sobbed silently into his brother's shoulder.

Once the sobs had faded, Dick pulled away from Jason and looked into his eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Jason smirked slightly, which said _do you even need to ask?_

Dick's lips molded against his, and, to Jason, it felt like everything was right in the world.

OoOoOoO

Jason wasn't sure why he agreed to this. _Why am I doing this? I shouldn't be doing this. This is stupid._

"Jay, you're squeezing me really tightly," Dick complained. They were stopped at a red light, on Jason's motorcycle. They were on their way to Wayne Manor, and Jason was pretty sure he was having an anxiety attack. Jason had let Dick drive, knowing that if he did, they'd never make it to the Manor. The younger man forced himself to relax his grip on his… boyfriend? Jason wasn't sure what Dick was to him now.

"It'll be okay Jason. Twenty minutes. That's all I ask for. I'll do all the talking, and Alfred will be there. Also, Damian promised that he'd be nice. I'll _let _you beat him up if he's rude."

The light turned green, and Dick sped off.

The reassurance did nothing to quell Jason's fears. "It's not Damian or Alfred I'm worried about," he muttered into his brother's shoulder.

"I'll keep Bruce in line, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you, Jay," Dick promised. Jason barely heard him over the roar of the wind.

Jason stayed silent for the rest of the ride, squeezing Dick noticeably tighter as they drove up the long driveway of Wayne Manor.

As they parked in front of the large house, Jason felt like he was going to throw up. Dick tangled their fingers together; not minding when Jason gripped his hand like it was his lifeline. Which, it pretty much was.

The front door was unlocked, and the duo walked in. They walked through the main foyer. Jason held his breath as they entered the large sitting room where they were to meet their family.

"Dick!" Bruce exclaimed. "Welcome home!"

Jason shifted his weight uncomfortably as Bruce's gaze burned a hole into Dick's and his intertwined hands.

"Jason," Bruce acknowledged grudgingly.

Dick glared at Bruce. "Be nice," he warned his father. Jason was surprised by the malice in his boyfriend's tone.

"Master Jason, a pleasure to see you again," Alfred, _that saint, _broke the tense silence.

"Told you we'd see each other again, Todd," Damian said, hint of friendliness in his tone. Just a hint.

Bruce stared at his butler and youngest son. "You visited him?" He asked incredulously.

"Irrelevant," Dick said, waving his free hand. "What we're here for, Bruce, is to tell you where I've been for the past month." Dick paused for a second. "I've been with Jason. We're in a relationship now, so accept it, or get bent."

Bruce stared his two oldest sons down. "Alright," he conceded.

Jason was so relieved that he tuned out the rest of the conversation. Later, when they were back in Jason's apartment, Dick had filled him in on the rest of their chat. Dick had pointed out that Jason hadn't killed once in the entire month Dick was with him. Bruce had reluctantly agreed to induct Red Hood into Batman Incorporated, as long as he was always with Nightwing for a six-month probationary period. They'd also arranged to get Red Hood off all wanted lists. Bruce insisted that Dick move in with Jason so that he could keep a constant watch on the second Robin. (Jason didn't mind that one.) The part that Jason was least looking forward to were the family dinners Alfred had insisted on once every two weeks.

But Jason could live with that, as long as Dick stayed by his side.

OoOoOoO

Several days later, Jason and Dick were making out on Jason's bed. The pair had split for air, and Jason moved down to suck a hickey into Dick's neck. Dick moaned at the feeling, but instead of a moan, it was a _meow._

Dick clapped a hand over his mouth, mortified. Jason broke into raucous laughter.

"Did you just- " He cut himself off with another round of loud laughs. "Did you just _meow?"_

Dick slapped his arm. "Shut up, Jay," he muttered, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

Jason chuckled a few more times before rolling off Dick. The two cuddled, and Jason shut his eyes. He was about to fall asleep when his boyfriend's voice woke him up.

"I think we should get a cat."

OoOoOoO

**A/N: **Wow, that was long. I liked the beginning and middle, but I thought it got worse at the end. Thoughts? Next chapter will be up Saturday. It'll be the sequel to Chapter 4, "Three Robins Walk Into A Bar…" It took me like eleven hours of nonstop writing to get this done. It's half past eleven, and I haven't eaten dinner yet. -.- Anyway, please review telling me what you thought!


	7. A Warm Bed

**Title: **A Warm Bed**  
>Words: <strong>932**  
>Category: <strong>Fluff, Family**  
>Rating: <strong>K**  
>Pairing: <strong>Little bit of Dick/Jay**  
>Summary: <strong>Damian wakes up from a terrible nightmare, and Dick and Jason drag them into their bed for some cuddles.

**A/N: **So, so sorry for not updating in forever! Life's been stressful recently. I'm still working on the sequel to 3 Robins, but I'm having a hard time with it. I have a lot of almost-completed drabbles waiting in the wings, though! Little bit of backstory: Damian ran away from Bruce for whatever reason and started living with Dick and Jason. Now he has two daddies looking out for him.

OoOoOoO

Damian startled awake, gasping and panting. Sweat plastered his short hair to his forehead. After a moment of staring at the wall with wide, shocked blue eyes, Damian buried his head in his hands and began to cry. Sobs wracked his body and warm tears soaked his clammy palms.

Dick stumbled sleepily out of his and Jason's room, throat dry and in search of water. He trudged towards the kitchen. He stopped when he heard the sound of broken and unsteady breathing.

"Damian?" Dick called quietly, searching the darkness for the ten year-old.

The man finally managed to fumble about and switch the lamp on.

As the golden light flooded the room, Dick's heart wrenched at the sight before him. Damian was curled into a ball on the couch he normally slept on, weeping.

"Oh, little D," Dick said softly.

Damian hesitantly lifted his head, looking at his big brother's sympathetic features. Dick gestured for Damian to stand up. Damian complied, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, trying futilely to get rid of the evidence. Dick frowned and pulled the younger into a tight hug. Damian stood rigidly, not giving in to the comfort.

"It's okay to cry," Dick whispered.

Damian paused, but then fisted the light blue material of Dick's t-shirt and resumed sobbing quietly. Dick soon felt the wetness of tears through thin fabric, but he didn't mind.

"Did you have a nightmare?" The first Robin asked, bringing his hand up to stroke Damian's messy hair.

Damian nodded against his brother's chest.

"Do you want to tell me what it was about?"

"M-my mother a-and father and g-grandfather were there," the current Robin whispered, hiccupping. "And they-they said I was worthless, and a bad R-robin, and that I was un-unforgivable because I've killed people."

Dick's heart broke. Partially because Damian had heard those accusations in real life before. Those were the worst kind of nightmares; the ones that brought up terrible memories and twisted them to make them even worse. He still had nightmares of his parents falling, except it often wasn't his parents, it was Jason or Damian or Tim or Barbra or Wally.

"I know just how to make it better," Dick promised.

The pair extracted themselves from their embrace. Dick's hand curled around Damian's small one, half-expecting the boy to protest. Damian didn't, deciding to indulge in the comfort it brought him.

Dick gently led the young boy down the dark hallway. The older man pushed the slightly ajar bedroom door open and tugged Damian in with him. They both stood in front of the king-sized bed with tangled sheets.

"Dick…?" Jason mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes. The white sheet fell away from him as he sat up, revealing his bare chest.

"Damian had a nightmare," Dick explained.

Damian felt suddenly very self-conscious. His eyes were red from crying and his hair looked like something was nesting in it.

Jason's face softened as he saw Damian's cheeks turn red. "It's okay, Little D. Every Robin has nightmares. It's pretty much in the job description. To be honest, I still have nightmares. So do Bruce and Dick."

Dick nodded solemnly in agreement.

"I guess my point is that you shouldn't be ashamed to have nightmares," Jason finished.

Dick swept Damian up into his arms – and Damian _definitely _did not let out an undignified squeak – and carefully tossed the boy onto the soft bed. Dick slid into bed next to Damian, putting Damian between the first and second Robin.

"And you shouldn't be ashamed to cuddle with your big brothers," Dick added.

Jason chuckled softly before wrapping an arm around the young boy's waist and pulling him to his chest. Jason's chest was warm and solid against Damian's back and the man's chin rested in his hair. And, really, Damian should've known how much Jason enjoyed being the big spoon after living with him for so long.

Dick squirmed closer to the pair and threw his arm over both Damian and Jason. Hand splayed out against Jason's back, Dick shuffled so close that the trio was forced to tangle their legs together as to not make their positions incredibly uncomfortable. Damian rested his head on Dick's arm, using it as pillow.

Dick dipped his head down to press a kiss to Damian's forehead. The boy flushed bright red.

"Night, Dami," he murmured.

Dick then tilted his head up to peck Jason on the lips over Damian's head.

"Night, Jason," Nightwing said softly.

"Sweet dreams, Dick," Jason replied, drowsiness causing him to slur slightly.

"Goodnight, Grayson," Damian said quietly.

The two older men fell asleep quickly, if their light snores were any indication. Damian smiled slightly. He wasn't much of a "cuddler" but he was… pleased by the warmth radiating off of his brothers. The innocent and comforting touch made him feel like he really had a family. Who would've thought? Damian Wayne calling Dick Grayson and Jason Todd his "family." They'd earned it, Damian decided. The couple had taught him more about the world—and himself—than he'd believed conceivable. They treated him like he was one of the most important things in their worlds, and Damian hadn't really ever had that. It was… nice. To be wanted. To have a place where it is okay to be yourself; where it is okay to have nightmares. Where it is okay to love and be loved in return.

The next morning, the trio was reluctant to detangle themselves from the soft sheets, because the warm bodies beside them made them exceedingly content—more so than they'd ever thought possible.

OoOoOoO

**A/N: **Sorry, that was a bit rushed, but I really wanted to post something. I feel bad making you guys wait forever. But, summer's coming up and that will be perfect writing time, so yay! Also, has anyone been watching Young Justice? Season 2, wow. I was really happy with it. Anyway, I could use some requests! Got any Robin you'd really like to see? Any plot bunnies bugging you? Reviews are always, always appreciated.


	8. Weakness

**Title: **Weakness**  
>Words: <strong>2,442**  
>Category: <strong>Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family**  
>Rating: <strong>T for themes**  
>Warnings: <strong>Attempted suicide, some verbal abuse/bullying**  
>Summary: <strong>After messing up all of the good relationships he'd ever had, Damian becomes suicidal. Getting a verbal smack-down from Tim pushes him over the edge, so he goes out with the intent of killing himself. But it seems as if his so-called family refuses to let him die in peace.

**A/N: **Little bit of backstory (or, a lot, actually)—after Batman and Robin #7 (in which Damian kills Nobody), Bruce and Damian have an explosive argument that ends in Bruce taking Robin away from Damian indefinitely and Damian declaring that Bruce isn't his father. Damian goes to stay with Dick for a while. But because Damian's still angry and he doesn't know how to channel it, he ends up constantly insulting Dick and generally being a little bully. After the whole thing with the Haly's circus and Raya's betrayal, Dick is incredibly stressed out and he comes home to Damian trying to tear down whatever little self-esteem he has left. Dick just breaks down and starts crying. He calls Tim and Damian overhears Dick say that he wished he was gone. Feeling really depressed, Damian goes back to the Manor and shuts himself up in his room for several weeks. He realizes how depressed his is and that he longs for the cold embrace of death. Then Tim comes to visit. Bruce and Alfred are out, and Tim and Damian start fighting. They insult each other back and forth until Damian finally breaks down crying. But Tim just keeps going, because he's so angry and Damian hurt Dick and he thinks the kid must never feel sad, so he deserves to feel a bit humiliated. Eventually, Damian runs out of the room after crying and being insulted by Tim for a good long while. He decides that he can't handle living anymore, so he runs off to kill himself.

OoOoOoO

Damian took a deep, cleansing breath and peered over the edge of the building. _It will be strange, _he decided. _To fall without having a grapple in hand._

Damian was standing on top of the four-foot-wide concrete barrier, three feet away from the edge of the forty-five story building. Tears pricked the corner of the ten year-old's eyes. But he pushed them back.

_No, _he thought. _I have to do this. _He _had _to. Because none of them wanted him. Not his mother, not his grandfather, not Batman, not Grayson, not Brown, not Wilkes, and _especially_ not Drake. And he never would be wanted. Because after studying the vigilantes of Gotham for so long, Damian had come to the realization that if one wanted affection, one had to _ask _for it. Damian, though, could never, ever ask for it, as that would be admitting weakness. Being taught firmly by his mother, the child knew that admitting weakness was an offense worthy of _death_.

So here he was. Dying. Because he'd been so _weak_; so _pathetically _and _undeniably _weak. It had been alright, admitting weakness to himself and allowing himself to be miserable in the confines of his own room. It seemed like all of the anger that was inside Damian had just faded. Now it was just depression. Within the four walls of his room, he'd been honest with himself – he was just a ruthless monster of a child that nobody wanted. He'd moped about it, but eventually came to accept this fact. Damian could live with being unloved.

But then… But then… _Drake._ Drake had pushed him so far that he'd felt like breaking. The older teen had just continually insulted him, even when tears began to overflow from the child's eyes. Even when Damian's sobbing got so bad that he didn't have enough breath to insult back. Even when Damian had curled up on the floor, cradling his knees to his chest. Only when Damian ran from the room, still sobbing did Drake stop his insults. Drake had assumed that his little verbal beat-down of Damian would put the kid in his place. That it'd force Damian to stop hurting the people around him. He couldn't have known that it'd have led to _this_.

Damian just couldn't handle Drake's words when internally, that's exactly how he felt on the inside. Damian hated himself, more than anything. And when he started crying, that was just the final straw for the child. He'd shown weakness in front of his _rival_. That was absolutely irreversibly _unacceptable._

Drake had probably thought that Damian had run off to nurse his bloody pride back to health. Perhaps Damian had gone to sulk in his room, or maybe he'd gone to hole himself up in some unused room to cry. Drake couldn't know that Damian had run off to do… _this._ Damian would bet his entire inheritance that neither Bruce nor Alfred nor Tim had even noticed his disappearance. And his inheritance was _a lot. _(But it wasn't like how much money he would eventually have even mattered; he'd give it all away if only…)

But, if Damian was truly looking deep within himself, he wasn't committing suicide just because he'd become weak.

A big part of it was… No one loved Damian anymore. And as they say, "You don't know what you have until it's gone." Damian hadn't realized how starving for affection he was. Dick didn't want him around, Damian had _heard him _tell Drake that. Of course, Drake rubbed it in Damian's face, too. His father and him still hadn't spoken, or even spared the other a glance since their argument. Brown and Cain were off in Hong Kong, and never bothered to call anyone aside from Gordon. And Colin… He and Damian had a nasty fight right before Colin got placed in a foster home halfway across the country. Damian certainly didn't know how to go about apologizing and Colin was too busy in his new home to spare a thought for the angry boy he'd once called "best friend." Damian even missed his mother's warm hand on his shoulder and his grandfather's fond smiles.

Damian had nobody left. He'd burned all the bridges he'd ever built, leaving him alone on the isolated island that was his own mind.

There was just… nothing. Damian had nothing to live for; there was nothing in his life worth waking up every morning and dragging himself out of bed for.

Damian sucked in a deep breath to soothe his nerves. Dying couldn't be all that much worse than training until one passed out from overexertion, right? He'd done that a couple times. It wasn't as big of a deal as some people made it out to be. And, Todd died, and he came out of it fine. If Todd could do it, so could he. Though the child didn't want to come out of it _fine._ He wanted to die, and stay dead. Which seemed pretty likely, since his mother and grandfather really didn't care enough to toss him into the Lazarus Pit.

He was just stepping off a building without a grapple. He'd _done that _before. Though, he'd done it with the intent of survival, but that was trivial. All he had to do was step off the edge, and let himself fall. Quick. Easy. And he'd only feel the pain for a millisecond before his brain matter was splattered all over the pavement.

Finding an eerie calm within him, Damian pulled it to the forefront of his mind and let it overtake him. He would kill himself, and nobody was going to stop him. Damian had shifted his weight to his left leg so that he could step forward with his right.

He froze, muscles taught and coiled tighter than a spring when he heard the _thud _of someone landing on the rooftop behind him.

Damian's eerie calm was shattered when he heard Drake's obnoxious voice. "You know you were banned from being Robin, _demon._ What do you think you're _doing _out here?"

Damian succumbed to the rising hysteria enveloping his mind. No, _no,_ Drake was _not _supposed to be here. He couldn't jump with that buffoon standing there. No, the idiot would simply jump after him and catch him.

"And you even came out wearing civilian clothes, _how quaint. _Are you even wearing a domino? Is the idea of _secret identities_ too complex for your ten year-old brain?" Tim taunted.

The boy's eyes stung, but he gritted his teeth and _refused _to let the tears fall. He'd already cried in front of Drake _once. _It was _not _happening again. Couldn't the older teen just _leave him alone?_

"You little shit, I thought you'd learned your lesson this afternoon. I _told you _to stop trying to get a rise out of everyone, to stop _ignoring people_, and to stop _disobeying orders_."

Drake _seriously _needed to leave _this very second_ because Damian absolutely _could not _handle this. Damian wanted nothing more to hurl himself of the building but Drake was still there, rubbing salt into his wounds. Damian was still as frozen as he was when Tim had first arrived.

"I should tell Batman on you. You're _directly _disobeying his orders. You know you're on your last thread with him after you _murdered _that man. I bet he'll take Robin away from you _permanently _this time."

Damian honestly didn't care if Father took Robin from him, because he didn't plan to live long enough to have to deal with it. In fact—_go run and tell Batman, Drake. When you come back I'll be nothing more than a splatter on the pavement. Have fun explaining to Father _why in the world _I could be suicidal._

The ten year-old was on the verge of crying again. He just wanted the teen to _leave _so he could kill himself in _peace_. Was that really so much to ask?

"Are you happy, Damian?" Tim spit his name like a curse. "You've been such a little shit lately that everyone has _stopped loving you_."

That was it. Drake just hit the nail on the head, and Damian just couldn't hold it back anymore. A single tear slipped out and ran down Damian's face and rolled off and hit the ground.

Drake had begun to say something, but trailed off in confusion at the sight of a drop of water hitting the ground next to the younger's foot. Damian was…crying? That didn't make sense. If he was out here, then that had to mean that Damian had gotten over the things he'd said to him this afternoon. Or maybe he was up here sulking. In which case Tim should just…leave. But Tim could almost _feel_ the purpose radiating off Damian. Damian was out here to do something, but Tim was confused as to what that was…

Damian couldn't take it anymore. If Drake didn't leave in the _next minute—_Damian took an unconscious step forward so that the toe of his shoe hung off the ledge.

Tim watched as Damian took a tiny step forward, closer to the edge of the building.

And it hit him like a ton of bricks.

The withdrawal, the crying, the despondency… And paired up with the fact that, as he'd just said, everyone was upset with Damian and completely unwilling to give him the time of day.

Damian was here to jump. He was here to _end his life_.

"Damian…" Tim said, breathless with the realization that his rival was _suicidal_.

He realized that _he _was a huge part of the reason that Damian was up here. Just this afternoon, Tim had verbally abused him, insulted the boy without even a hint of mercy; all while Damian was contemplating ending his life.

Tim wanted to throw up. He had a big hand in this…and… he just-

No. Tim couldn't start the pity parade yet. He had to get Damian off that ledge first. Because if the child _did _die—Tim would never forgive himself.

"Damian, no," Tim said, voice choked. "You're here to jump, aren't you? You can't—You… I… No."

Tim felt so _pathetic _and _useless_. He couldn't even form words when he needed them most. Tim was the worst possible person for this. He and Damian _hated _each other, and now he had to talk the kid down from jumping? This _wasn't _happening. It just wasn't.

"Please don't," Tim begged, not even trying to hide the desperation in his voice.

Damian clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. Drake _knew _now. He'd never hear the end of it. Now Father and Grayson and Pennyworth and _everyone_ would _know_. They'd know of his depression, of his loneliness, and worst of all, of his _weakness._ That thought was unbearable.

"You've had your chance, Drake," Damian spat, tears now a constant stream.

Tim watched in horror as Damian tensed to jump. It felt like his mind was disconnected from his body as he reached for his grapple. Everything was moving in slow motion. Damian pushed off from the ledge and began to fall. Tim shot his grapple and prayed to some higher power that it his aim was true. Luckily for him, the grapple swung and wrapped itself around Damian's chest. The breath whooshed from Damian's lungs as the rope went taut, and he knew he'd have bruises on his chest tomorrow. The older yanked the grapple, pulling Damian back onto the roof. Struggling and writhing, Damian tried desperately to get out of the rope around his chest, so he could just run away to _die_. Tim closed the distance between them quickly and crushed the boy to his chest.

Tears slipped out from Tim's mask as Damian shook with suppressed sobs.

"You… should've just let me _die_," Damian said as he tried to get himself out of Drake's hold. But tears were blurring his vision and several weeks of eating at horribly inadequate intervals had weakened him drastically. Bruce had forbidden him from even entering the Cave or training. Damian felt so woefully weak, emotionally and physically. And he hated it more than he hated himself.

"No, Damian. This feeling? Of wanting to die? It's only temporary. I promise," Tim reassured, even though he knew it'd do nothing for the boy. Tim had wished he was dead before; during those bleak times when everyone he loved was dead and Robin had been taken from him. But he'd moved past that, eventually. He prayed that Damian would, too. Because _nobody_ deserved to feel like their life was better off over, not even Damian. _Especially_ not Damian.

"You're only ten, Damian. Your eventual death will come. But it wasn't meant to come by your own hand. So just… stop. Please. Sure, a lot of people are unhappy with you right now, but things will even out eventually."

Damian was still struggling in Tim's tight hug, but now it was more half-hearted. He just couldn't find the strength to keep fighting Drake. He _would _kill himself, but now it was going to be a lot more difficult. Because that idiot Drake had to go and get involved.

"I'm going to call Bruce now, okay?" Tim said gently. "He'll take you home."

Damian renewed his struggling madly. _No, Father _cannot _know of this. He'll never look at me the same way. He'll never let me be Robin again._ The ten year-old's fighting got so out of hand that Tim was forced to nerve strike him. Damian fell limp in the older boy's arms, glaring up into Tim's domino as tears continued to spill down his cheeks.

Tim sighed sadly before tapping the comm in his ear.

"Bruce."

"No real names in the field," Bruce reprimanded. Tim ignored it. He could hear the _whoosh_ of the wind, which meant Batman was on the move, cape flapping behind him.

"I just—I. I just caught Damian trying to kill himself." The sound of the wind halted for a moment, which meant Bruce had frozen in shock. It then returned, louder than ever, which meant Bruce was moving quickly.

"I'm on my way," Bruce grunted.

Tim looked down at the child in his arms. He brushed Damian's hair off his forehead gently. Damian growled and would've punched Drake right across the face if the nerve strike had already worn off. The kid was still shaking from his sobs, but that didn't inhibit him any.

"Everything's going to be okay, Damian. Everything's going to be okay."

_No,_ Damian thought, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. _It won't be okay. Because now no one will let me die in _peace.

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**A/N: **I know, I know, I haven't updated in over two months. I'm sorry. A lot of stuff has been going on and writing hasn't been coming easily lately. I have a bunch of WIPs that are nowhere near finished. And I'm participating in the dcu_bang over on LJ, so I've been working on that. And then I've been working on my story Reconciliation (which I haven't updated in a month either, whoops). And I've also started a headcanon blog over on tumblr (batfamilyheadcanons dot tumblr dot com, check it out!). But I'm going to do my best to give you guys lots of updates this month. I also wrote two Young Justice one-shots while I was gone, so check those out, too. I'll try and post another chapter soon!


	9. Little Monsters and Forgetting

**A/N: **Hey guys! I know it's been an awful long while, and I am sorry about that. I've been writing, I've just been lazy and haven't been cross-posting my drabbles that I post on tumblr. I have six drabbles to post, and to minimize the number of alerts you get, I'll be posting them in sets of two. So here are the first two, both gen.

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**Title:** Little Monsters**  
>Words: <strong>467**  
>Category: <strong>Fluff/Family**  
>Rating: <strong>T for cussing**  
>Pairing: <strong>none**  
>Summary: <strong>Jason Todd finds four black-haired, blue-eyed toddlers on his doorstep. Jason Todd has always had a soft spot for children, even though he tells himself there is no way in hell that he's letting them in. It doesn't work.

**A/N: **For brokenseal's fluff war on tumblr. Originally posted on tumblr on July 15, 2012.

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Jason opens his apartment door to find four toddlers with black hair and blue eyes sitting on his doorstep. His eyes widen and jaw drops open when he realizes who the little terrors must be.

"Oh _fuck _no," Jason says as he slams the door shut. He bolts the lock, slides the chain into place, and even stuck a chair underneath the doorknob in hopes that the little demons outside the door won't get in.

But then, _it starts._ The soft wailing of a baby and hiccupping and near-silent sobs. No, no, _no,_ Jason will not give in to those _monsters_. He just _won't_.

But, all too soon, Jason finds himself caving. _I'm only going to check if they're alright,_ Jason tells himself as he removes the chair from underneath the door.

He opens the door to find that baby Tim is the one that's crying. Despite the fact that they're all around the same size, it's easy to tell who is who. Bruce is the one with short, neat hair and a permanently displeased expression. Dick is the one with long-ish hair who looks happy and innocent and everything a child should be. Tim also has long-ish hair and darker blue eyes than the rest. Damian is the grumpy baby with short, spiky hair and a scowl. All of them are lined up on his doorstep wearing nothing but diapers.

Tim's crying, and Jason's heart _melts._ Any and all resistance against caring for these toddlers evaporates.

Jason picks up Tim and shushes the baby. Bouncing him a bit, Jason watches the other children. Dick had crawled over to hug Damian, but the little Damian wasn't having it. Damian squirmed and wriggled in Dick's chubby arms, making angry gurgling noises. Bruce stood up on unsteady legs and walked past Jason.

"'as…'ason," Bruce acknowledged. Even though he was stumbling and couldn't make the "j" sound, Bruce still sounded as dismissive as ever.

Tim had stopped crying and had rested his head on Jason's shoulder, sniffling. Bruce walked several steps more before falling. Jason watched as Bruce got up again, fell again, and then decided that crawling was much easier. Tim lifted his head from Jason's shoulder to watch Bruce's progress. Jason and Tim shared a smile at Bruce's difficulty.

Damian had wrestled his way out of Dick's hug and started crawling after Bruce. Dick just sat there for a moment, staring after Damian and pouting. Then, Dick's face lit up as he seemingly noticed Jason for the first time. Dick got up and walked (surprisingly steadier than Bruce) to Jason and wrapped himself around Jason's leg.

Jason chuckled and walked into his apartment and closed the door behind him.

First thing to do: call Alfred and pray to God that he could take care of the little terrors.

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**Title: **Forgetting**  
>Words: <strong>641**  
>Category: <strong>Angst/Family**  
>Rating: <strong>K+ I guess?**  
>Pairing: <strong>none**  
>Summary: <strong>Based of headcanon 507 from batfamilyheadcanons on tumblr, submitted by afangirlsdelight: One day, the technology to wipe one's memory and replace it with a new set of memories becomes available, albeit illegally. Without consent from the rest of the family, Jason undergoes the procedure. His new identity is Jacob Mason, who coincidentally moves next door to a deep undercover Cass Cain. He freaks her out with unprecedented amiability as a neighbor. She doesn't tell Bruce or the rest of the Batfamily though, so as to let the former Jason live in peace.

**A/N: **Originally posted on tumblr on August 8, 2012.

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Jason hated remembering. He hated the fact that once upon a time, he had a family that loved him. He hated the fact that Bruce, the man that had promised to support and care for him, the man that Jason looked up to more than anything, nearly slit Jason's throat for asking for one little thing. Jason hated how much he missed them: Dick, Alfred, Bruce, and even Tim and the little demon had grown on him. But there was no going back. Bruce wasn't willing to give him any more second chances, and that hurt worse than dying at the hands of the Joker. Jason felt so betrayed, and… alone.

So when he heard of something that could make him forget, he jumped at the chance. He wouldn't have to suffer alone anymore. He could start over. Jason… Jason wanted that more than more than anything.

He was going to become Jacob Mason: a young, well-educated man just getting out of teaching school and moving into quiet suburbia. He had a job opening secured at a local elementary school and a picture-perfect past set in place.

Jason went into the operation wishing that he could say goodbye to his family, one last time.

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Cass walked out of her beautiful suburban house, sweeping her hair behind her ear. Someone new had just moved in next door—one Jacob Mason—and like a good suburbanite, she was going to greet him.

Cass knocked on the door politely, waiting for an answer as she shifted the casserole in her arms back and forth. Cooking wasn't her thing, but she'd gotten the recipe for Alfred, so hopefully it would be sufficient. She needed to blend in here; it was essential to the mission.

A smiling man opened the door, and Cass nearly didn't recognize him.

"Jason?" the woman choked, scrambling to catch the dish of food she'd nearly dropped.

Jason's eyebrows furrowed as he frowned. "I think you're mistaken. My name is Jacob. And you are?"

Cass read the man in front of her. This was Jason, but he was… different. Happier. Lighter. Not lonely or angry or sad. Realizing that Jason must have changed for a reason, Cass then decided that no one would know but her. Jason needed this, this normality; all the man had ever wanted was acceptance, and this was the only was he could get it.

"I apologize," Cass said. "You just look like somebody I used to know."

Jason—no, Jacob now—smiled generously. "It's no problem. Is that tuna casserole? It smells delicious. Here, why don't you come on in and set that on the counter…"

Cass followed Jacob inside, secretly glad that her renegade brother finally found where he belonged, even if— Even if he was supposed to belong with them. But he was rejected by the very family he longed to be a part of, so he'd had to settle for second best.

Cass knew something Jason didn't though, and it put a lump in her throat. She'd overheard Bruce the other day, arguing with Dick… Dick had been fighting on Jason's behalf, telling Bruce that Jason deserved another chance.

Cass knew that forgetting was a mistake. But it was one that Jason would not pay for, no, Jason had been blamed for enough. Instead, Cass and her family would be paying for that mistake. Because they hadn't realized how far Jason had fallen, and how much he needed them even when they turned him away.

The small woman made small talk with Jacob, commenting on his beautiful home. She wondered if she could ever atone for her family's mistakes… If she could stay here and befriend Jacob. But Cass also knew that unless she forgot, too, there was no way she could abandon the Mission that bound their family together. Not even for Jason.

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**A/N: **Next two drabbles will be up momentarily!


	10. Prove It and I'm Alive

**A/N: **Two more drabbles! This time, both with a pairing and both written in celebration of Jason's birthday.

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**Title:** Prove It  
><strong>Words:<strong> 1,181  
><strong>Category:<strong> Angst  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T**  
>Pairing: <strong>JayTim**  
>Warnings: <strong>taking advantage of an emotionally unstable individual**  
>Summary:<strong> For this prompt on the DCU Robincest meme on LiveJournal:

"_Hand in mine  
>Into your icy blues<br>And then I'd say to you  
>We could take to the highway<br>With this trunk of ammunition too  
>I'd end my days with you<br>In a hail of bullets_

Jason convincing Tim or Dick to join him in his crusade."

**A/N: **Drabble written in celebration of Jason Todd's birthday. Originally posted on tumblr on August 16, 2012.

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"I could give you the world," the dark Batman whispered roughly. _No, _Tim reminded himself. _Jason isn't Batman, and he never will be._ But it was weak and flimsy.

All Tim's resolve was gone; withered and dried up like a fragile flower turning to dust under the hot desert sun. He felt so weak. Tim didn't want anything specific. He just wanted to be numb. But he couldn't do that. He had responsibilities, and duties, and obligations, and—

"I could give you… _love_," Jason whispered. "All you have to do is be my Robin."

Tim didn't say anything. He was just so tired. He didn't have the strength to speak, to ache, to think—he didn't even have the strength to get up from where he lay sprawled out on the rooftop. Jason and he had been fighting earlier, and after he'd been knocked down, Tim was just…done. He had no will to do anything. Jason could kill him, for all he cared. It felt like everything that he was was just… numb.

Jason straightened up from where he'd been crouched down next to Tim's prone form, brushing some dust off his shoulder. He began to walk to the edge of the building and called over his shoulder.

"Think about it. I'll be watching."

Tim decided that anything, _anything_, would be better than this crippling numbness. And that maybe, just maybe, Jason could do what everyone else couldn't…

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Dick will never forgive him for this. "Wait," he croaked, voice so subdued and quiet that he was surprised Jason even heard it.

Jason half-turned to look at him, and waited for him to speak.

"I'll do it. I'll be your Robin. Under three conditions." Tim couldn't believe he was doing this. But he knew that Jason was the only one who could fix him; the only one who could drive away the numbness. Jason had always evoked strong emotions from him, and now he needed that more than anything.

Jason tilted his head. "I'm listening," he said obligingly.

"One. You let Dick become Batman, and go back to being Red Hood." Jason pursed his lips, but nodded.

"Two. Leave Dick and Damian and every other hero alone. You can't attack them, but you can defend yourself." Eyes narrowed, Jason gave a short, sharp nod.

"Three. Prove to me that becoming your Robin is worth giving up the life I have now." Tim mustered up enough strength to turn his head to look at Jason.

"And why would I do that?" Jason asked suspiciously. "You're the one making the decision, not me."

"Because I know the pros and cons, and I've already decided. But I need to know how much you're going to put into this. I'm giving up being good for you. I'm giving up _everything _for you. I need to know that you're serious," Tim replied quietly.

"Of course I'm serious," Jason said, an indignant undertone hiding beneath his mask of emotionlessness.

"Prove it."

Jason looked around before pulling down his cowl and removing his metal face mask. He ran one hand through his flattened hair as he crouched down next to Tim. The younger man looked up at Jason from his place on the rooftop, murky Gotham night sky framing Jason's strong face. Without asking permission, Jason carefully peeled Tim's domino from his face. Tim did not move a muscle, allowing the rather intimate action.

"I know you've seen it, Replacement. The way Dickie-Bird looks at the assassin brat. Like he wants to take the kid in and reform him, like training a wild animal. We both know Dick knows of only one way to do that, and that's slapping an R-patch on the kid's chest." Jason lightly traced the "R" on Tim's chest with one gloved finger. "You're just counting down the seconds, aren't you Babybird? Until the last good thing you have in your life—Robin—is ripped from you. Dick doesn't care that without Robin, you're nothing. Dick doesn't care that he's replacing you as easily as Bruce replaced me."

Tim wanted to protest—Bruce loved Jason, and he'd only become Robin because it was absolutely necessary—but the words were stuck in his throat. He'd never admit it, but he was terrified of being replaced. Being set on some dusty shelf somewhere and becoming useless, and being forgotten.

Jason moved his hand up to caress Tim's jaw. "But I won't do that to you. I'll never replace you. Even if you leave and it's just me again. The only person that will ever stand by my side will be you, Babybird."

Tim sighed shakily as he stared into Jason's honest eyes, that promise meaning more to him than most of the promises Bruce had made to him.

Jason tangled his fingers in Tim's sweat-damp hair, staring into his icy blues. "And I know how lonely you are. Everyone you love dies. The clone, the speedster, the girl, your parents, Bruce… You feel like you kill everything you love. And one of the only people who still loves you is about to throw you out. I know what it's like to be lonely. Bruce disowned me after I came back. I was kicked out of the family. I know how that feeling, probably better than you. I can take you away from all of the loneliness, and pain; we don't even have to stay in Gotham. We could take to the highway with a trunk full of weapons and rid the world of criminals, one thug at a time."

Tim gulped, hating how appealing Jason's proposition sounded. He shouldn't want to kill but the idea of not having to hold back, using his assassin training to the fullest, was very attractive. Jason's thumb stroked over Tim's cheekbone.

"And all those people that left you—because they died—you won't have to go through that with me. I'd end my days with you, so that neither of us have to be alone again. And if I die, you can just dump me in the Lazarus pit. Bat those pretty eyelashes of yours and Ra's will do anything for you. It's not like the Pit will make me any crazier. Think about it… Never having to be alone again, Babybird."

Jason paused to run his thumb over Tim's lush bottom lip. "Are you convinced yet?" he asked quietly.

Tim nodded.

Jason carefully lifted Tim and stood up, pressing a shockingly gentle kiss to the smaller's forehead as he tucked his head into Jason's Kevlar-clad chest.

"I'll take you home," Jason said, knowing that Tim would understand that they weren't going to the Manor, but rather Jason's place, and Tim's new home.

Tim hummed softly, clutching Jason's cape in his slender fingers. He couldn't hear Jason's heartbeat through the thick body armor, but for once, he knew for certain that it was there. Jason would be his Batman, and that's all he really needed. Maybe, now, things could get better for him. Maybe he could be happy.

Maybe he could be happy… with _Jason._

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**Title: **I'm Alive**  
>Words: <strong>3,595**  
>Category: <strong>Angst/Romance**  
>Rating: <strong>High T**  
>Pairing: <strong>BruJay**  
>Warnings: <strong>mentions of romantic relations between an adult and a minor, numerous mentions of sex**  
>Summary: <strong>Bruce couldn't have forgotten his birthday…right?

**A/N: **Drabble written for Jason Todd's birthday. Originally posted on tumblr on August 17, 2012.

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For the first time in a long time, Jason and Bruce were completely alone in the Manor, and Gotham. Dick was off on a mission in Europe, Tim was off doing his own thing, Damian was with the Titans, Steph and Cass were in Hong Kong, Alfred was on vacation, and Barbara was in New York giving a lecture on computer security for the weekend. Yes, Jason and Bruce had been alone together before, but not without people close by. It unnerved Jason. He loved Bruce, but the man could be rather… intense, at times. And he had a habit of getting so absorbed in his mission that he tuned the rest of the world out.

It had been two full days that they'd been alone. Jason had bugged Bruce while he was working and managed to convince Bruce that post-patrol sex was a good idea, but other than that they really hadn, even though when the rest of the family was around, they did fine. Most of the time while they were alone, Jason would find himself wandering the Manor, taking in how silent and ominous it was while empty. And how eerie it was that Bruce blended in perfectly with the still and quiet house.

It was his birthday. Last year, the house had been nearly filled, so he'd been woken up by Dick jumping onto him and shouting, "Happy birthday!" Last year, his birthday had been great, but he, unfortunately hadn't gotten as much "alone time" (read as: birthday sex) with Bruce as he would've liked. It was nice, though. That day he'd felt really great, everybody had made him really feel like part of the family again. It sucked that everyone was gone, but, hey, he and Bruce would have some nice alone time, right?

Jason was hoping that he'd be woken up with birthday sex. He wasn't, sadly, but Jason wasn't too disappointed. Bruce wasn't in bed with him so… maybe he was making a special breakfast? (Jason kind of hoped that Bruce had just ordered something from a bakery or somewhere, though, because Bruce seriously couldn't cook to save his life.)

When Jason had padded into the kitchen, nobody was there. There were dishes in the sink, indicating that Bruce had already ate. So, no birthday breakfast, Jason thought idly as he grabbed a box of cereal and a bowl. But, hey, that was okay. Jason would just eat and then find Bruce and asked what they were doing today.

Right as he finished his cereal, Jason's phone rang. He pulled it out of the pocket of his sweatpants and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Little Wing!" Dick exclaimed enthusiastically. "Happy birthday!"

Jason smiled. "Hey, Dickie-Bird."

"Sorry I can't be there in person, little brother. But Tim and I are getting in tonight. Funny thing actually, turns out Tim and I were on the same case. We're just about done wrapping it up, and I don't know if we can get back before midnight, so we might be a bit late. Anyway, I was thinking you, Tim, and I could go out and celebrate tomorrow? Just the three of us?" Dick babbled.

"Sure thing," Jason replied smoothly.

"Awesome!" Dick said happily. "Sooo… Have you and Bruce been having fun _all by yourselves_?"

Jason snickered. "I just got up actually. But trust me, there will be plenty _fun _things going on."

"You guys going out anywhere? Or just having a nice day in?"

"I don't actually know the plan yet," Jason admitted. "But you know Bruce. He probably has something or other planned."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Dick said suggestively.

Jason laughed outright at that. "So, you said Timmy was there?"

"Oh! Yeah!" Dick said. Jason heard Dick fumbling with his phone for a moment before he heard Tim's voice.

"Happy birthday, Jason," Tim said, and Jason could hear the smile in his voice.

"Thanks, Babybird."

"There's a present for you in the West Wing sitting room," Tim said. "I wanted you to get it on your birthday, so I put it somewhere where you wouldn't find it until I told you where it was."

Jason smiled. "Sneaky. I'll go get it after I talk with B."

Dick stole his phone back from Tim. "Damn, why didn't I think of that? Oh well. You'll get your present from me tomorrow."

"I can't wait," Jason replied sarcastically. Dick's presents always sucked.

"Hey don't you use that tone with me, mister, or I won't give you your present."

Jason just rolled his eyes.

"And go find out what you're doing with Bruce today," Dick urged. "I'll see you tonight."

"Bye," Jason replied.

He heard a faint "Bye." from Tim and another "Happy birthday!" from Dick before he hung up.

Jason wandered down into the Cave, assuming that's where Bruce was, and he was correct. Bruce was sitting at the computer, poring over something or other. Jason went up and leaned against the back of Bruce's chair, wrapping his arms loosely around Bruce's neck and resting his chin in the older man's dark hair.

"Jason," Bruce greeted.

"Bruce," Jason mimicked. "Do we have any plans for today?"

Bruce hummed. "Scarecrow's developed a new toxin that I need to create an antidote for and I need to rearrange my files."

Jason stayed silent for a moment. Had Bruce forgotten about his birthday? No… he couldn't have. Could he? Then Jason realized what Bruce was doing. Bruce was trying to surprise him. Oh, _that_ Jason could definitely handle. Jason played along.

"Alright, alright, B," Jason said. "I'll leave you to it then." The younger man walked to the Cave entrance before turning back to wink at his lover. "But if you want to take any… breaks, come find me."

After that, Jason went to grab Tim's present. It was a brand new high-tech computer, probably built by Tim himself, since Jason recognized the third Robin's craftsmanship. It was very welcomed, considering the fact that Jason's old computer was two more random shut downs from being thrown out the window. Jason spent some time setting it up and transferring his files and such. He was so engaged that he almost forgot that he hadn't yet gotten birthday sex. _Almost._

Jason had received several wishes of happy birthday throughout the day. After the call from Dick and Tim, he'd skyped with Steph and Cass, gotten a call from Alfred, had spoken with a reluctant Damian who was "being forced by the speedster and the clone", and Babs hacked into his new computer, said happy birthday, and proceeded to build on Tim's pre-existing security software. It was all very heartwarming to Jason, who'd only been accepted back into the family a little less than two years ago.

But as the sun got closer and closer to going down, Jason's gut sunk further and further. Bruce still hadn't surprised him yet, and was still holed up in the Cave. Maybe he was taking him to dinner? Yeah, that had to be it. Bruce was going to take him out to some fancy schmancy restaurant and then they'd have a nice night in and skip patrol.

Jason went down into the Cave around seven, hoping Bruce would tell him to get ready to go out to dinner. Instead he found Bruce working in the lab area, carefully mixing chemicals.

"Have you eaten yet?" Jason asked, trying to hint with his voice that he was getting kinda weary of this game.

"Have you?" Bruce asked, not even turning to look at him as he poured the contents of one beaker into a test tube.

"No," Jason said, a little confused.

"Well, you should," Bruce said. "Patrol's in an hour."

Jason's face fell into an expression of distaste. This was getting old, fast. But Jason tried to cleanse those thoughts from his head. Bruce knew how much he loved patrol sex, so maybe that's what he was getting after? Even though they'd wasted the whole day that they'd had to themselves (a day that could've been spent in bed, having mind-blowing sex), patrol sex would make up for it. Jason loved the thrill of being out in the night air, where someone could see them on a roof top, and how desperate they both were after some blood-pumping crime fighting. Jason was sure that Bruce would make up for lost time.

Jason grabbed a bite to eat before suiting up for patrol, purposely not wearing underwear. He headed over to where Bruce was waiting, fully dressed in the Bat suit. They silently got into the Bat mobile and Bruce drove them to their patrol starting point. After grappling onto the roof of a nearby building, Jason asked, "We patrolling together?"

Bruce gave him a funny look. "No," he said before jumping off the rooftop and shooting his grapple.

Jason sighed. Did Bruce really forget? It was starting to seem that way… But Jason had admitted long ago that he loved it when Bruce snuck up on him and they wrestled for a bit while on patrol before having sex. Bruce _could _be doing that… Right? That had to be it.

But it felt like there was a rock in his stomach as he went along his own patrol route. As each minute without sight of a swishing black cape in the shadows, the rock grew heavier and larger. Soon it felt like the rock had grown so big that it was squeezing itself into Jason's esophagus and stopped in the back of his throat, just before his mouth. He felt too choked to speak. Had Bruce, the man he'd loved and given up his life for, really forget? Bruce was usually so good at remembering things. He pretty much only forgot something once a year. And it looked like this year, it was Jason's birthday. Or maybe Bruce just didn't care. There was that, too.

Around 1 A.M., Jason finally gave up. He resigned himself to let Bruce let the day pass without knowledge that it was different than any other day. Maybe if he asked nicely enough, Dick wouldn't mention it to Bruce. Bruce would get that look, the "I've failed you" look and avoid Jason for several weeks. Every Robin had experienced it, Jason moreso than Dick, Tim, Steph, and Damian. Jason didn't want that to happen.

At 1:30, Bruce called him over the comm.-link. Jason half-hoped that it was Bruce realizing what he'd let pass and an apology, but by now he was afraid of getting his hopes up. And it was good that he didn't.

"Nightwing and Red Robin are back. They said to meet on top of the warehouse on 24th and 37th," Bruce said stoically.

"I'll be there in five," Jason said, trying to keep the bitterness and disappointment out of his voice.

"I should be shortly behind you. Batman out."

Jason pushed himself to move faster, hoping that he'd have enough time before Bruce got there to tell Dick not to say anything. But his desperation made him make stupid mistakes and only cost him more time than he would've had if he'd gone at his normal pace. By the time he got to the rooftop where Dick and Tim were waiting, Bruce was two buildings behind him. Jason contemplated running, so that he wouldn't have to face Bruce's inevitable guilt, but it was pointless. He'd have to face Bruce sometime.

"Little brother!" Dick shouted as Jason touched down on the rooftop. Dick promptly tackled him to the ground and wrestled him into a full-body hug. Dick was half-octopus, with his arms that seemed to be everywhere at once and half-koala with his clinginess.

Jason grunted as he tried to fight against the octopus-koala-man attached to him. Eventually he realized fighting only made him hug tighter, and tried a different tactic. Jason went limp and Dick slithered over him, cuddling his younger brother more comfortably. In a low voice, Jason asked, "Nightwing, are you coming onto me?"

Dick's eyes widened behind his domino and he jumped off Jason. "No, no, no, absolutely not, why would I do that in front of Bruce?"

Jason laughed as he stood up. Dick seemed to realize what Jason did and joined in the laughter.

"Speaking of which," Dick said gleefully, "happy belated birthday, Little Wing. Did you and Bruce have fun today while you had the Manor all to yourselves?"

Jason saw Bruce pale out of the corner of his eye, and silence was the only answer to Dick's question.

Dick's 100-watt smile dimmed substantially when no answer came, his eyes moving from Jason to Bruce and back again.

Finally, Tim broke the silence, his cape rustling lightly as he shifted his weight.

"Dick, I think our plan to give Jason and Bruce some alone time on Jason's birthday failed."

Dick looked between Jason and Tim. "Why?" he said, confused.

Jason grit his teeth. "Because Bruce _forgot,_" Jason said bitterly, anger seething just below the surface.

"Bruce!" Dick exclaimed, half scandalized and half scolding.

Bruce stared guiltily at Jason, and, no, Jason was not going to put up with that look. No way was he going to let Bruce avoid him out of his own feelings of failure.

"Bruce, it's fine," Jason snapped. "You were busy with a case and didn't realize what today was. I get it."

"No, Jay, it's not—" Dick started.

"Dickie, shut the fuck up for once." Jason should feel bad about the hurt expression that flashed across his brother's face, but he was too angry.

Tim tugged on Dick's wrist. "I think Jason and Bruce need to talk, Dick. We can check back in later." Dick reluctantly followed Tim away. That kid was a life saver, Jason swore it.

"Jason…" Bruce said, voice pained.

"No," Jason replied. "Don't pull this fucking 'I've failed you' bull shit on me. Don't you fucking dare."

Bruce looked so pained, like someone was slowly dragging a knife along his neck. "But I _have _failed you, Jason. I love you, and I'm supposed to remember things like this. I can clearly remember the day you died but I can't even remember the day you were born."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Jason cussed. "Don't even fucking bring that up right now, Bruce. I'm still pretty pissed about that. You know what, too late."

Jason walked up to Bruce, hating how Bruce had that expression that said 'Get it all out, I can take it'.

"On my death day, you fucking holed yourself up in your room like a goddamn sixteen year-old girl. And, yeah, I understand. My death was fucking depressing and traumatic to you, and it really fucked with your head. But did you forget? I was the one that fucking _died, _Bruce. I was the one in that warehouse, the one that was beaten to a bloody pulp with a crowbar, and the one that was inside when the explosives went off. I was the one who died, not you. But that was how you were acting. I _needed _you on that day, Bruce. I fucking needed you, but you were too busy mourning me. I had Tim and Dick to comfort me, yeah, sure. They did okay, but I needed _you_. I needed to know that you weren't going to let that happen again, that you wouldn't let me die again. But you weren't fucking there.

"Furthermore, asshole, I see you every Sunday morning. I'm not fucking blind. I see you go out to my empty grave and place flowers there. I see you stare at the Case—the one I fucking told you to take out—for hours. You were in love with me as Robin, and I was in love with you, too. I died, and I get it. You lost the person you loved, and you were depressed. But, right now, I'm _alive._ You're still fucking acting like I'm dead. Yeah, a part of me died in that warehouse, at the hands of the Joker. Maybe even the part of me that you loved the most. But I'm still alive, Bruce. I'm right here. I'm not six feet under, and I'm certainly not in that glass case.

"And—just the fact that you still mourn my death, even though I'm live and kicking, it makes me feel like I'm dead. Or like I should be. You shouldn't still be mourning my death when I'm _right here in front of you._ Bruce, you should be celebrating the fact that I'm alive. Why can't you see that? I want—no, I _deserve_—somebody who treats me like a living human being, not like a ghost. As long as you're still mourning the death of somebody who's alive, I can't stay here. I'm not dead anymore, Bruce. Accept that fact or lose me again, but this time because of your own actions."

Jason whipped around, ready to leave without even hearing Bruce out.

"Jason—Jason wait!" Bruce called, wrapping his hand around the younger man's wrist. Jason jerked his arm, trying to free it, but Bruce gripped his shoulders and spun him around to face him.

"Jason—I'm sorry. I just don't know how to deal with the fact that I failed you in the ultimate way. But, please, don't leave. I'll take out the Case, and I'll stop going to your grave." Bruce paused, hoping the honesty showed in his eyes, and Jason wouldn't really go. Bruce… he needed Jason, too. He needed Jason's passion and determination and the way the young man's eyes sparkled when he was up to no good.

"Jason… I love you. Please, don't go." Bruce leaned forward, kissing Jason desperately. He couldn't lose him, not again… He'd done wrong by him, but he could fix it. Jason just needed to give him a chance.

Jason automatically kissed back, the older man's lips firm and needy beneath his. Then his eyes shot open and he realized what he was doing. He shoved at Bruce's chest and broke away. "Bruce, get the fuck off of me!"

Bruce immediately took several steps back, not wanting to force Jason to do something he didn't want to do, even in his desperation.

"Bruce, I'm leaving," Jason said, voice as hard as steel. "I can't keep living in the shadow of the Robin that died. If you ever accept the fact that I'm not your punk sidekick anymore and that I am currently in the land of the living, then I'll come back. Until then, this is goodbye. I'll send Tim to get my shit. Don't you dare come looking for me."

With that, Jason swung away, leaving Bruce, maybe forever.

OoOoOoO

It wasn't until six months later that Bruce caught wind of where Jason was. He hadn't looked, as Jason had wanted. Rather, Jason allowed himself to be found, which pleased Bruce. Jason's abrupt breakup and his words had forced Bruce to reevaluate his choices. Over those six months, Bruce got rid of the Case and removed Jason's grave from the Wayne family cemetery. Bruce was doing his best to forget about the street kid that he'd failed, and replace his memory with the leather jacket-wearing young man who was fiercely independent and wasn't afraid to stand up for what he believed in.

Jason was the leader of a small team consisting of him, Starfire, and Arsenal. He was doing well for himself, living life to the fullest. Bruce was proud of him. He'd moved on, and he was livelier than ever. Dick and Tim still visited him from time to time, which Bruce was glad for. At least Jason didn't lose everything when he left him. He still had the bonds with the family that he'd worked hard to re-forge. Bruce was happy that Jason was in a good place.

Bruce was getting better and better every day, and he was confident that soon Jason would be willing to rekindle their relationship.

OoOoOoO

Late April brought about the anniversary of Jason's death. And, for once, on the actual day, Bruce didn't spend the entire day brooding. Instead he spent the entire day with his family (minus one particular member) celebrating the fact that they'd all lived through another year and that none of them were currently buried in a coffin.

That night, Bruce went to find Jason. He found the younger man in an apartment, sleeping. Jason tossed and turned, obviously in the midst of a nightmare. Bruce carefully slid into bed next to Jason, pulling down the cowl and pulling the frightened young man onto his Kevlar-clad chest. Bruce's gauntlets creaked as he brushed a lock of sweat-damp hair off of Jason's forehead. Jason's eyes fluttered open under the touch. He looked frightened and disoriented from his nightmare. He made a small distressed noise in the back of his throat.

"Shh," Bruce said gently. "You're okay. You're alive, and I'm here. You're not dead anymore, Jason. You're alive, and… I've come to accept that you're not the kid who stole the tires off the Batmobile anymore."

Jason smiled sleepily. "Good. You're staying with me until morning, by the way. You wouldn't want me to get any more nightmares, would you?"

"Of course not," Bruce chuckled, shifting so that he could get up and start stripping off his uniform.

Bruce honestly thought Jason had fallen asleep again, but then the younger man had opened one eye to look up at him and smirk. That mischievous glint appeared in his eye, the one that Bruce had fallen in love with.

"Also, you owe me birthday sex."


	11. Tomorrow and Confidence

**A/N: **Last two drabbles for now! These two both feature the pairing JayDick.

OoOoOoO

**Title: **Tomorrow**  
>Words: <strong>1,329**  
>Category: <strong>Angst/Romance**  
>Rating: <strong>T**  
>Pairing: <strong>JayDick**  
>Summary: <strong>Their anniversary is also Jason's death day.

**A/N: **Dedicated to renegadejaybird on tumblr. Originally posted on tumblr on August 29, 2012.

OoOoOoO

Dick was going to be firm. This year was going to be different from last year, and the year before. No matter how many bad memories this particular April day held, no matter how much every member of their family hurt on this day… This was their third anniversary. Dick wasn't going to let Jason lock himself away in his room, not for the second year in a row.

Dick had filled today's schedule with things to take Jason's mind off of the date. (Deep down Dick knew that nothing he could do would ever make Jason stop hurting, but, no, he couldn't think like that. It would just take time.)

As the original Boy Wonder did his best to not burn the pancakes he was making, he ran through ways to confront Jason.

_Jason, I know that today isn't such a great day for you, but, hey, look at it from _my _perspective—_No.

_Yeah, you were the one that died, but you didn't have to deal with the aftermath—_

Dick sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair. There just seemed to be no way to ask Jason to try and be a little happier today without sounding excessively rude and selfish. Carefully inching the spatula underneath the pancake, Dick flipped it and groaned when the other side was nearly black. In a sudden fit of annoyance, Dick turned the stove off and yanked the cabinet doors open. He pulled out a bowl and snatched Jason's cereal from the top of the fridge. Pouring the cereal into the bowl, Dick scolded himself. _Why did I even try cooking? Every single time I either end up burning things to ash or giving someone food poisoning. Why did I even think I could ever try and do something for Jason? Everything seems to backfire on me, _Dick thought with bitter disappointment in himself. He just wanted Jason to be happy today, and, well, he wanted to be able to celebrate the fact that even though a lot of people didn't believe that their relationship would last, Dick and Jason made it through another year together. That was worth celebrating. The fact that Jason died was… not.

Dick sighed again, because _what kind of breakfast in bed is made up of cold cereal and questionably tasting orange juice? _Dick picked up the tray anyway, forcing a smile onto his face. He'd just have to wing it when asking Jason if he could possibly maybe perk up a bit today? _It's my anniversary, too, _Dick thought.

Carefully balancing the tray in one arm, Dick pushed their bedroom door open quietly and flicked on the light. Jason was on his side, his back facing the door. He'd stolen the blankets that Dick had left behind earlier to try (and fail) to cook breakfast for Jason. He'd cocooned himself in the thick white comforter, only his black hair peeking out of the nest Jason had created.

"Dick, s'that you?" Jason mumbled into his pillow.

"Yeah, Jay," Dick said softly. "It's time to get up." Dick walked several steps closer to the bed when Jason made a low sound in the back of his throat.

"I don' wanna wake up," Jason whined. But there was a tiny bit of desperation hidden in his voice. Hesitantly, he added, voice thick, "Not today."

Suddenly, Dick felt stupid for trying at making all of Jason's hurts be okay for his own selfish wants. Just because he wanted Jason to celebrate their relationship instead of mourning his own death didn't mean he should be a jerk about the fact that Jason will never really be okay on this day. Guiltily, Dick set his tray on the dresser. Jason _died_. Even if he spent months mourning the fearless and brash Robin, he wasn't the one that died.

Heart heavy with guilt, Dick slid into bed next to his boyfriend. "Okay, Little Wing. If you want to stay in bed all day, I'll—I'll stay with you," Dick whispered, swallowing.

As Jason shuffled around, unwrapping himself from the blankets to give some of them back to Dick, the older man recalled how their relationship began on this very day, three years ago. It was because of Jason's rawness and vulnerability that Dick had been brave enough to finally ask Jason to be his boyfriend. They'd kissed several times before, and Dick had inflicted cuddles on the younger man. But seeing Jason on his death day was a painful sight. The normally strong and unflinching Jason was nothing more than the broken teenager that was brutally murdered by the Joker on this day. After seeing Jason in that state, Dick realized that he wanted to be the one to fix Jason, to bandage all his wounds, and kiss all his hurts better.

_But that's silly, _Dick thought. _I can't fix Jason; nobody can. Yes, he's hurting, but he's not _broken. _No, just cracked. Never broken. Not completely._

Dick's arms were firmly around Jason, and the younger man's face was buried in his collarbone when the tears started. It was only a couple of drops against his old t-shirt, but they slowly grew faster and faster until Jason was shaking and sobbing against him and several tears of Dick's slipped out, too.

After Jason would tire himself out and run out of tears, he'd calm his hiccupping and drift off into a light doze for a little bit as Dick stared at his vulnerable, open face. Jason wasn't hiding anything from him, not today. Jason would wake up from his shallow sleep and grip Dick tightly, and possibly hold Dick tighter or cry a bit more.

It continued like that for the rest of the day, Jason's tears and tight hugs coming and going like waves in the ocean, pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling…

Despite the numerous scars littering Jason's body from his vigilante activities, Jason had more mental scars than physical scars. And, unlike the scars on his chest and arms and legs, the mental ones still caused him great pain. They were crippling; one wrong comment and Jason would flash back to some of the worst times in his life, and it was all Dick could do to hold him and wait for them to pass. Dick could only hope that one day a light press to Jason's scars wouldn't send him into a shaking, sobbing agony. Dick could only hope that their relationship would help Jason get there.

Jason's scars were deep, and it would be a long time before he could ever really move past some of the things that had happened to him. But Jason had been able to forgive him enough to freely admit that he loved Dick, so there was a ray of light for him yet.

The old saying "time heals all wounds" isn't true, not for Jason and Dick. Because these scars were so deep, and so agonizingly painful that they'd never really heal completely. Over time, the memories would become less painful, but… it would be a long, long while. Maybe one day in the far future, Jason would be able to actually function on this day. Maybe one day Jason's scars would fade enough that they'd no longer be crippling. But for now… Dick would hold Jason through the pain, letting him know that he's not alone anymore, and that he'll never have to be.

The small velvet box in his pocket was uncomfortably digging into his thigh as he lay in bed with Jason. He'd planned to give the gold band inside to Jason after they'd finished the day full of celebration that he'd set up. But now, he knew that today was not the right day to pull it out Jason. Maybe tomorrow, when Jason's cracks weren't showing.

Maybe, tomorrow, instead of giving Jason more scars, he could give Jason some good memories. Maybe he'd ask Jason to marry him, and maybe Jason would say yes. Tomorrow.

OoOoOoO

**Title: **Confidence**  
>Words: <strong>1,168**  
>Category: <strong>Romance?**  
>Rating: <strong>High T**  
>Pairing: <strong>JayDick  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Nudity, hints at suspicious activity**  
>Summary: <strong>Prompted by redundantthinking on tumblr: "JayDick; Dick never gave much thought to modeling until Kory suggested him to her agent and told him that Mr. Todd was interested in his "work". What he didn't realize was that the "work" would involved nudity and, also, he was being set up."

**A/N: **Originally posted on tumblr on August 7, 2012.

OoOoOoO

"Wow, uh... I didn't know I'd have to be, uh... naked..." Dick says uncomfortably, shifting from side to side. Nobody paid attention to what he said. He attempted to be modest by covering himself with his hands, but Dick knew that wouldn't really fly for long. It's not like he was against being naked, no, more often than not he walked around his apartment in his birthday suit. He didn't mind friends and family and lovers seeing him in the nude, but that creepy-ass photographer and the agent that he'd only met with a grand total of four times? Not so much.

His agent, Mr. Todd, was sitting on the couch in the corner of the room, intently tapping on the keyboard of his phone. The ancient photographer fiddled with his camera, adjusting settings and preparing for the photo shoot.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Grayson," the elderly man said.

Dick took a deep breath. Shouldn't there be a director for this or something? What was he supposed to do? What was this shoot for anyway? Did he just stand there and look pretty? Dick pushed away all his suspicions. Mr. Todd seemed like a good guy. He wouldn't ask him to do a nude shoot unless he knew it was a golden opportunity.

Dick let his hands drop to his sides. "I'm ready."

The photographer nodded, and looked closely at his camera. "Alright, Mr. Grayson, give me your best 'I want to sleep with you' look."

Dick could do that. Bedroom eyes were something he was good at. He did his best to think about Kory and Roy and Wally and Babs, and how much he enjoyed sleeping with them.

Dick was a little unsure what he was supposed to do, so he just stared at the camera and hoped he was doing okay. The only sounds in the room were the clicks of the camera and the tapping of cell phone keys.

Dick jumped when Mr. Todd sighed loudly. He gestured to the photographer. "Give us a minute alone, would you?"

The old man shrugged and walked out of the room. Mr. Todd sighed and walked up to Dick. Dick looked down at the ground and fiddled with his hands. Here it comes, another person regretting their decision to try and help him. He just wasn't good enough. He never was and never will be.

Mr. Todd put a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Dick, you need to relax. You look as if you're scared someone's going to jump out and stab you. I can tell from those times that we've met that you're usually really comfortable with your body, so what's going on now?" He asked, almost gently.

Dick hunched his shoulders, nervous. "I've, uh, I've just never done this kind of thing before, and I don't know what to do."

Mr. Todd chuckled and smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, Dick. Nobody expects you to walk onto a shoot and automatically be perfect. It takes some time, okay? You just have to be confident that things will come together eventually."

Dick smiled, a hesitant quirk of his lips. "Okay, I'll do my best."

The other man smiled back broadly. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? I know that this can be really intimidating, and I just want you to focus on modelling, and not have to worry about anything else."

Dick's eyes moved back to the ground and he shuffled his feet. "Well, uh-it's just that... the photographer..." Dick trailed off.

"What about him?" Mr. Todd asked searchingly.

"It just feels... kinda... weird," Dick said vaguely.

The other man's eyebrows furrowed. "The reviews for this guy were all positive, despite his age."

Dick shifted, discomfort oozing off of him in waves. "He doesn't really tell me what I should be doing with my body, and I don't know what would be good cause I'm new to this. And..." Dick paused for a moment,taking a deep breath. "It's just-the way he looks at me makes me feel really self-conscious. Like... like I'm something to _eat._ And it reminds me of... yeah..." Dick said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. Bad memories resurfaced of a woman nicknamed after a spider and a night that he never wanted to repeat.

Mr. Todd rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "Okay. Well, I don't think I can get you a new photographer, but I have some experience, so perhaps I'll take over for him? Does that make you more comfortable?"

Dick nodded gratefully. Sure, he didn't know Mr. Todd all that well, but at least he knew he wasn't just a pretty object to take pictures of in his mind. "Thank you, Mr. Todd."

"It's no problem. I try and make my models have the best experience possible. And please, call me Jason." Jason smiled as Dick stared into his deep blue eyes.

"Okay. Thank you, Jason," Dick said, feeling more comfortable by the second.

Jason pulled away and turned to walk towards the camera when he stopped. "One more thing, Dick. You've got a gorgeous body and a wonderful personality to match. Don't be afraid to flaunt that."

Dick hesitated, before nodding slightly. He knew that he was handsome, but he wasn't all that great of a person. Sure, he had a stint as a cop and now taught an acrobatics class, but just because he helped other people didn't make him a good person. Dick didn't believe Jason for a second.

Jason could see the doubt on the other man's face, and he knew that if Dick was going to be a model, he'd need to love every part of himself. Jason knew that he had to prove that he wasn't just saying that.

Impulsively, Jason leaned in and kissed Dick, a hand coming up to cup his chin. Dick made a surprised noise against his lips, but then relaxed and melded into the kiss. Jason wasn't lying... Maybe Dick really _was_ a good person. If Jason thought that, then Dick could handle it. Maybe he didn't like who he was very much, but Jason did. And... that was enough.

Finally, Jason pulled back and stared into Dick's wide blue eyes. "I wouldn't lie to you, Dick. You're an amazing person. Don't ever doubt that." Dick blinked dazedly at the realization that he really liked Jason. He was so kind, and comforting, and he had really soft lips...

Jason kissed Dick on the cheek and turned, walking to the camera. Dick smiled goofily, running his hand through his hair. This wouldn't be so bad. He could do this shoot with Jason, one of the few people who honestly believed in him and thought he could go on to do great things, behind the camera. This would be a piece of cake.

Jason pulled out his phone, and sent a quick message before slipping it back into his pocket and familiarizing himself with the camera.

_Hook, line, and sinker. I'll be done in ten._


End file.
